


Second Chance at Forever

by blueboxesandtrafficcones



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adult Content, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Blind Date, Donna Noble - Freeform, F/M, Jackie Tyler - Freeform, Martha Jones - Freeform, Non-Explicit Sex, Pete Tyler - Freeform, Tony Tyler - Freeform, mickey smith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-09-12 12:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxesandtrafficcones/pseuds/blueboxesandtrafficcones
Summary: Once upon a time, a boy and girl met at a bar and fell in love - until he ghosted her.Five years later Rose Tyler’s best friend Mickey is getting married, and arranges a dinner for her to meet the groomsman she’ll be walking with - unaware that the two already know each other.John Noble’s not sure how his friend and mentee managed to connive with the Universe to bring the One Who Got Away back into his life; all he knows is his carefully built and maintained walls are crashing to the ground with no warning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WordsInTimeAndSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsInTimeAndSpace/gifts).



> 2018 Secret Santa gift for wordsintimeandspace!
> 
> 15 chapters by current estimation, frequent updating. I don't plan on getting too explicit, though drunk!Rose has a dirty mouth and there is foreplay.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_Five Years Ago_

Rose Tyler stepped into the club only to be nearly assaulted by a wall of noise.  Music blared from speakers, drowning out any possible conversation, though that didn’t keep people from shouting to be heard.  Fighting her way to the bar she was able to snag a solitary stool roughly in the middle, hopping up and flashing the waiting bartender in front of her a brilliant but false grin.

“Two shots of tequila, please.”

“Right away.”  He was young and fit, and the lingering appreciative glance he gave her cleavage was exactly the ego boost she needed after her shitshow of a day.

Rapping her nails on the bar as she waited, she smiled politely at the staring man next to her before focusing on the shelves behind the bar, studying the multitude of half-full glass bottles promising sweet, if temporary, relief from her troubles.

Three shot glasses appeared in front of her, each filled to the brim, and she raised an eyebrow at the bartender – Jason, according to his name tag.

He winked in reply, moving to another customer, and she leaned forward slightly on the barstool to catch a glimpse of his arse, which was well worth the effort.  Turning to her drinks, she stared down at them for a moment before selecting one.  Silently toasting her bad luck she threw it back, just managing not to cough at the burn.  Though her eyes watered slightly, she didn’t let her reaction show, just picked up the second.

_To being footloose and fancy free on a Thursday night._  She grimaced at the thought as she managed to swallow down the second with more poise.

Wrapping her fingers around the third glass and already feeling a delightful warmth in her chest as the alcohol worked its magic, Rose paused to glance around at the other patrons seated at the bar.  There were several couples, but most were groups of people, all men or all women, crowded around one or two people seated on barstools.  She counted two hen nights and three stags, four couples- and Him.

Nearly against the wall, a man sat watching her.  Easily twice her age he was nonetheless fit, and she had to give him credit; it couldn’t be easy wearing a leather jacket and jumper in the packed club.  Rose’s dress was tight and tiny, but still she was sweating bullets – he must have been roasting, but didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

He caught her looking then, raising his glass with a half-smile.  She lifted hers, and they silently toasted each other before shotgunning their respective drinks, a spectacular burn down her throat into her chest, warming her, loosening her tension and inhibitions, chasing her worries away.

The song changed then to the latest hit, and with another flirty smile she slipped off the barstool to make her way onto the dance floor, easing through the crowd until she was in the center.

A part of her hoped he would follow her.

* * *

John scowled down at his mobile, ignoring his whiskey for the moment.  In typical Donna fashion his sister waited until the last possible second to cancel, abandoning him ‘to whatever the universe holds’, or so she’d said.  Resolved to finish his drink and get out of this hellhole he’d braved only for love of her, he looked up in time to see a beautiful blonde settle into a seat halfway down the bar.

The bartender was in front of her almost instantly, and John watched as she smiled at the bartender only for it to fall as soon as he moved on.  Despite being one of the better dressed women in the club, she was alone but for the cloud of darkness that seemed to hang over her head.

_Half a drink and you turn into a fuckin’ poet_ , he scoffed, shaking his head, but his eye was quickly drawn back to her.  Her order arrived, three neat little shot glasses, and she wasted no time on the first two.  She paused before the third, glancing around, and it took a heartbeat too long to realize she’d caught him staring.

Raising his glass, he shot her an apologetic grin, making her smile in return.

The song changed then, a slightly different techno beat underlying the latest hit pop song from the last, and her face lit up before she slithered off the seat, disappearing into the sea of people.

The spell broke, and he came back to himself with an unpleasant jolt.   _She’s barely twenty_ , he lectured himself.   _Quit perving on her._

“Another?”

He looked up to see the second bartender, this one a woman, waiting impatiently in front of him with a forced smile.  Staring down at his empty glass before darting his gaze towards the dance floor, he found himself nodding.

“Please.”

Sam, or so proclaimed her nametag, nodded.  “Coming right up.”

This time John made sure to savor the drink, one eye on the digital clock on the front screen of his mobile.  When twenty minutes had passed and only a mouthful of his whiskey remained, he decided to cut his losses and head home.

_What, did you think she’d come chat you up?_

Grumbling to himself, annoyed at the passing fancy, he was pulling his wallet out when a voice echoed from his left.

“Leaving so soon?”

Head jerking up, he blinked in surprise as the blonde settled onto the stool next to him.

“Uh…”

She was more beautiful up close, eyes the color of his whiskey and a devilish smile lighting her face.  Her dress barely qualified as more than a scrap of fabric, nearly painted on and more suited to a lingerie photoshoot than a dark nightclub.  It hugged and strained in all the right places, highlighting mouthwatering curves, and while John considered himself a gentleman, it took effort to meet and keep her eye.

“Suppose it depends,” he finally managed, her smirk growing with every passing second.

“On what?”

_You should leave_ , the little voice in the back of his mind urged.   _She’s too young and beautiful to want someone like you.  Get out._

“If I’m buying a pretty girl a drink,” he found himself saying, slowly sliding his wallet back into his pocket.

She flicked her eyes over him, and he tried not to shift under her inspection, holding his breath.  Sure, she was probably only after a free drink, but what the hell – if it came with a few minutes of her company, it was worth it.

“Fine, but the next round’s on me,” she agreed, resting her elbow on the bar as she turned to face him, looking effortlessly graceful and seductive.

“Fair enough.”

Their order was quickly placed, and they simply smiled at each other for a long moment, taking the other in.

“I’m Rose,” she finally offered with a flirty grin, tongue peeking out the side of her mouth.  He had a sudden, nearly irresistible urge to chase it with his own, but managed to reign in his baser impulses, unsure what had gotten into him.  Maybe Donna’s parting barbs about how long it had been had gotten further under his skin than he’d thought.

“John.”

“All alone?”

“My sister cancelled at the last minute.”  Too late he realized it wasn’t exactly an impressive answer, bordering on pathetic, but Rose didn’t seem to bothered.

“Her loss, my gain.”

“And you?”  Folding his arms on the bar, John leaned forward and turned his head to stare at her.  “You don’t look like a girl who should have to buy her own drinks.”

“Well…” she drawled, shaking her head and sending blonde curls bouncing, “dumping my cheating boyfriend and quitting my job in the same five minutes was the _highlight_ of my day.”

John winced in sympathy.  “Sorry.”

“Thanks.  So, basically I’m here to drink my troubles away.”  She tapped her glass against his, this time only drinking half of it.

“His loss, my gain,” he parroted back to her, making her laugh as he sipped at his own.

“Oh-ho!  Nice!  Very smooth,” she approved, grinning.  “Why’d your sister stand you up?”

He took a longer pull of his whiskey this time, rolling his eyes.  “She ended up with a date, waited to tell me til I was already here.  Though I’m not so sure this wasn’t her plan all along.”

“What was?”  Rose propped her head on her hand, stretched across the space between the chair and the bar and looking oh so fucking delicious his heart hurt.

“In her words I’m a workaholic, and I need to go out to bars and events and meet people.”  Donna’d said a few more things, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

“You don’t think you are?”

“I enjoy what I do, doesn’t feel much like work.  Enough about me though – why quit your job?”  For someone who spent all day lecturing, he hated nothing more than talking about himself, and was far more interested in the woman next to him.

Rose heaved a sigh, and he was proud of himself for keeping his eyes on her face.  “Walked into my boss’s office to ask a question, found my boyfriend’s cock in her mouth.”

John stared at her for a long moment, considering how he’d react to such a betrayal and trying to picture an appropriate reaction to such a sight.  “They’re both fucking idiots.”

“Thanks.”  Her gaze dropped to her drink, and she ran the top of her index finger along the rim before looking up, determination in her eye.  “Want to get out of here?”

His first instinct was an emphatic yes, and it was halfway out before his brain caught up with him.  “Uh- well-”

“What?  Oh!  I did promise the next round, didn’t I?”  She gestured for the bartender for two more tequila shots and the checks before he could respond, which gave him time to compose his question.

“Thanks.  Listen, I don’t know how to ask this-”

“What?”  Rose merely blinked at him, looking sinful in her barely-there dress, and he warred with himself.  If he was right he wanted to know, but if he was wrong he’d probably mortally offend her and torpedo his chances of taking her home.  And oh, he wanted to.  It had been a long time since he’d met someone who could turn his head so easily.

“John, what?”

Leaning closer he muttered in her ear, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not the type of bloke to buy a shag, yeah?”

He leaned back in time to see her eyes go wide, jaw dropping, and his heart plummeted in dismay and mortification.

“I’m not a _prostitute_!” she hissed, looking scandalized.  “Why would you think that?”

John took a moment to sign his credit slip and close his tab before answering, trying to choose his words carefully.  She looked like the kind of girl who would slap.  “Because you’re twenty years old and fucking stunning.  You could take home any bloke here and half the women; I don’t see why you apparently want me.”

Rose’s outraged expression eased, fading to surprise as she stared at him.  “What’re you talking about?  I get the age thing, though I don’t care.  But… you’re gorgeous.  If anyone’s punching out of their league, it’s me.”

He scoffed, shaking his head and climbing to his feet.  He took one last, lingering look at her.  “Hardly.  Erm, sorry if I offended.”

Still perched on her barstool looking like a goddess, Rose gave him a thorough inspection.  Crossing his arms he waited for her judgement, wondering why he hadn’t legged it out of there already.

“Are you any good at going down?” she finally asked, making John blink at the non sequitur even as his heart lifted in hope.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Then I’ll let you make it up to me.”  Tucking her credit card away, Rose flashed him that tongue-touched grin as she melted off the stool and strode off a few steps before throwing a seductive look over her shoulder.  “You coming or what?”


	2. Chapter 2

_The following morning_

 

Rose drifted awake, moaning slightly at the ache in her head.  It took longer than it should have to realize that Jimmy didn’t own sheets anywhere near as nice as the ones she was snuggled under – naked.  Eyes snapping open, she took in her surroundings.  Clearly a single man’s bedroom, everything was a dark neutral, the main hint of color being her crimson dress, lying crumpled by the foot of the bed.

Scrambling upright was a mistake, taking the dull pain behind her temples to a full-blown raging headache she had to close her eyes against.  When the world stopped spinning she eased them open again, looking around in curiosity.  A glass of water and bottle of aspirin sat on the nightstand next to her, and she popped two.  She was alone in the room, and the first open door she spotted was a bathroom.  Grabbing her dress she tiptoed over to it, easing the door shut behind her.  A glance in the mirror said her makeup had not fared the night well, and grimacing, she quickly scrubbed it off as best she could with just water and a waiting flannel.

Cleaning herself up as best she could, she couldn’t help but admire the bathroom.  It looked like something out of a magazine, all glass and dark tile, clean lines.  A shower stall stood in the far corner, inviting her in, but she ignored it in the interest of getting dressed.

Pulling her dress back on and seeing her reflection in the mirror, she flushed to see how little it really covered.  The tight fit reminded her that she’d worn nothing beneath it in fear of lines, and while it had seemed a good idea at the time, she felt silly in the daylight without any underthings.  The previous evening was slowly coming back, bits and pieces flashing by in a confusing slideshow of images and sensations.  Tequila.  A club.  Snogging a bloke in the back of a cab.  Thick fingers buried inside her in a lift.

A face emerged from the fog then, an older bloke with a quick smile and mischievous blue eyes.  Rose vaguely remembered meeting him the club, but the whole thing was a blur – just flashes of laughter, drinking, talking… oh.   _Oh._   If her shoddy memory could be trusted, they’d done far more than snogged.  A quick glance in the trash bin next to the sink showed two used condoms, implying they’d both had a good time.

Blushing, and tugging fruitlessly at both the hem and neckline of the dress to cover as much as possible, she stepped back into the bedroom and made her way to a closed door, finding herself in a hallway on the first try.  From one end echoed music and the scent of bacon, and following her nose, she ended up rounding a corner to find a kitchen that spilled out into a living area.

“Good morning,” a Northern burr greeted her, and she turned to the stove to find its source.  The man from her memory, even better looking in the flesh, whistled as he flipped bacon.  “Breakfast’ll be right up, but the kettle’s hot and I’ve a Keurig, so help yourself.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, skirting around him to the kettle and fixing herself a cuppa in the waiting mug as she stole furtive glances at the man next to her.  He was tall and broad, but trim, dressed in a long-sleeved tee and flannel pajama bottoms slung low on his hips, ones that made her want to tug them down and wrap her-

“How’d you sleep?”  His voice jarred her from the fantasy and she flushed further, glad he wasn’t looking at her, couldn’t tell how affected she was.

“Well, thanks.”  A breakfast bar with three stools faced him across an island, and she hopped up on the stool on the far side, watching as he finished cooking.  “You?”

“Best in a while.”  He had a silly grin on his face whenever he looked at her, but it wasn’t the same obnoxious just-been-laid one Jimmy tended to give her in the mornings.

Jimmy.

Rose waited a moment, only slightly surprised to find no guilt or longing.  She’d been looking for a way out with him for a while, and though she could’ve lived without the visual, she supposed she should just be thankful he made it so easy to break it off.

“I aim to please,” she drawled belatedly, greedily gulping her tea.  “Sorry, not much for mornings.”  The thought alone made her yawn, and she attempted hide it behind the mug.

“No worries, though technically morning’s long gone.”  Flicking off the flame he divvied up the food, setting a plate in front of her with bacon, scrambled eggs, and plenty of toast.  “Hope this’ll do.”  He settled on the stool at the other end, leaving one in the middle between them.

“Looks great,” she observed, noting the real plate and cutlery.   _Gee, it’s almost like he’s an_ actual  _adult._    After so long with Jimmy, it was a refreshing change.  Rose waited for him to start eating before digging in herself, moaning slightly at the first taste.  “Shit these are good.”

“Thanks.”  He watched her for a long minute before asking, “Rose?  D’you remember last night?”

Her fork froze in midair, as she looked up at him with wide eyes.  “Uh…”

His expression fell, and he slowly lowered his own fork, letting it clatter against the plate.

“I remember meeting you last night,” she started slowly, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, remembering how she’d practically thrown herself at him.  “I remember you are very talented with your tongue.”  That memory had rushed back as soon as she’d laid eyes on his front door; her back arched against the hard wood, the top and bottom of her dress around her waist as he feasted on her, moaning loudly.  “And I’m fairly certain I propositioned you.”

He relaxed, tension melting away.  “Good.  Because it occurred to me early this morning that you had five shots of tequila in about an hour, and you should’ve been on the floor by that point.”

“I can hold my liquor,” she reassured him, “and I’m not an idiot – I ate before I went out.”  Finishing off the last bite her breakfast, she coughed awkwardly, wondering how to ask.  “One thing I don’t remember though?”

“Yeah?”

“Your name?”  Rose grinned sheepishly as he barked out a laugh.

“John.”

“John,” she repeated, vaguely recalling crying it out several times before they’d passed out.  “Good name.”

“You seemed to like it.”  His lips twitched, and he stood from the stool to clear the plates away, stacking them on the counter next to the sink before turning to face her, leaning back against the counter.  His clothing hugged his lithe body, and she was starting to wonder about the possibility of a round three.  From what she remembered, it would be well worth it.  “So… got plans today?”

“I quit my job, so no.  Finding a new one I suppose?  Do you need me to leave so you can get to work?”

“No no, I teach – it’s half term.  Free as a bird,” he hurried to reassure her, and Rose relaxed to know she wasn’t keeping him from something.  Judging by the way he was devouring her with his eyes, his thoughts had wandered in a similar direction to her own.

“That’s good.”

They smiled awkwardly at each other for a long moment, and Rose wondered how her friends could do this, go home with total strangers.  And why had she never asked them how they handled the next morning?!

“So…”

“So,” Rose mimicked, shifting awkwardly, “do you want me to leave?”  She was acutely aware that with a simple tug of his sleep trousers, he could take her on this bar stool – and what was more, she liked the idea.  Actually, she  _really_ liked it.

“No.  I mean, you can if you want, but you don’t have to.  If you don’t want to.”  John folded his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits, and Rose bit her lip against the way the move pulled his shirt tight across his chest.

Finally the silence got to her, and she blurted, “We could have another shag,” before her face flamed with mortification, wondering if she’d misread the vibe.

To her relief his face lit up, and he moved towards her eagerly.  “If you’re sure?”

When Rose nodded he bent his knees, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and hauling her back to the bedroom as she shrieked with laughter.

It was a long time before they emerged.

* * *

“I… had a really good time,” Rose sighed, head lolling.  John had her pinned to his front door, and she was ostensibly leaving – or so they’d reluctantly agreed twenty minutes ago.  Based on the attention he was showing her neck, it was more likely she’d be coming than going – not that she would mind that in the least.  The man was talented.

“Me too,” he agreed, working on a mark she didn’t want to have to explain to her mother but was enjoying too much to stop him, instead cradling the back of his neck and holding him to her.

“Would… I mean, I…”

“What?”  He pulled back to meet her eye, the already familiar blue burning a hole in her.  To replace the lost contact, he rocked his hips against hers in a deliciously distracting manner.

“D’you want to see each other again?”  Fidgeting nervously as she waited for his response, she pulled the spaghetti straps of her dress back up, fixing the material to once again hide her breasts from view.  His appreciation of them was already well documented, despite how short a time they’d been together so far.

“Do you?” John countered after an agonizing silence, tone suspiciously neutral.

Rose’s head shot up to blink at him in surprise.  “Wouldn’t’ve suggested it if I didn’t.”

His expression relaxed, and he nodded sharply.  “I’d like that.  Erm, dinner maybe?  Tomorrow night?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck again, she hummed in thought.  “Well, I suppose I could make room in my busy schedule,” she drawled, “but I think I can fit you in.”

John kissed her, deeply, leaving her breathless by the time he pulled away.  “It’s a date then.”

“Brilliant.”  Grinning up at him, she pressed her lips to his once, twice, three times before reluctantly shoving him away.  “Now, let me go before my mot- roommate files a missing persons report.”  She flinched at the slip up, hoping he wouldn’t catch it.  He seemed much more bothered by their age difference than she was, and she didn’t think mentioning she still lived at home would help with that.

“I’ll text you?”

“You better.”  Pushing off from the door, Rose stepped to the side so he could open it.  When he merely undid the lock without opening the door, she peered up at him, biting her lip.

“A word of advice, though?  Not to give away trade secrets, but… while I know a picture is worth a thousand words, girls would rather have the words.”

John’s blank look made her snort with laughter.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I’m not going to forget what  _this_ -” she cupped him through his sleep pants – “looks like.  I don’t need a pic.”

His expression shifted to just shy of incredulous, and he gaped down at her as her hand fell away after a nice squeeze.  “Do blokes actually do that?”

“Yep.”

“And that’s not a good thing?”

“Nope.”

He shook his head, barking out a laugh.  “You’re more likely to get Shakespeare from me.”

“I’ll take it.”

“I suppose I’ve got to let you go,” he heaved a put-upon sigh, “for now.”  There was a dark promise in his voice that made her shiver in anticipation.

“For now.”  Rising on tiptoe, she pressed one last kiss to his mouth.  “Impress me at dinner, and you can make me breakfast Sunday as well.”

“Right, you’ve got to get out of here,” John laughed, opening the door.  “I’ve got things to do with what remains of my Friday, and a date to plan.  Shoo.”  And he gave her a light smack on the rump, making her giggle as she scurried out the door.

“Until tomorrow!” Rose called, and a glance over her shoulder showed him lingering at the open door, waiting for her to reach the lift.  In a spectacular mood, high on amazing sex and a brilliant potential new relationship she put an extra swing in her step, throwing a saucy wink over her shoulder as she called the next liftcar.

By the time she hit the lobby of his building her mobile was beeping, and she paused just inside the doors to check the message.  It was a photo, and she opened it to find him smiling at the camera, his sitting room in the background.  It wasn’t a great picture, he was off center and crooked, but it made her grin, as did the message below it.

_Sorry, not so good at following instructions._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, everything will be present day unless otherwise indicated.

_Present Day_

Rose sauntered into the restaurant, perfectly put together.  Tasteful accessories matched her dress, all in the latest fashion and coordinated.  Her handbag settled in the crook of her right elbow, her left hand gently tugging her brother along.

“Tony, come on,” she pleaded, as they paused for him to run his toy car over the hostess podium, making the sound effects himself.  “Uncle Mickey’s waiting to see you.”  Never mind the maître d’ glaring holes in their backs.

“Is  _he_  wearing a suit?” the four-year-old sulked accusingly, tugging at his tie as he trudged along.

“Yes,” Rose said firmly, silently pleading with the Universe that he was.  She didn’t know Martha terribly well, having only met her a few times, but her oldest friend’s fiancée was the type to keep him properly presented – without being overboard or overbearing, as some of his last, unsuccessful paramours had been.

“Okay then.”  Tony sighed the sigh only a benevolent child was capable of, trailing behind her as they made their way to the table.  They were only five minutes late, which was a blessing considering Tony’s last-minute stubbornness on the way out the door over his outfit.

She was so focused on him, keeping him from walking into anything or running his car over a chairback, that she barely registered the three people already seated at the table until she had him settled in a booster seat.

“Uncle Mickey!” he chirped, for once not fighting as Rose buckled him into the waiting seat.

“Hey, little dude,” Micks chuckled, good naturedly offering his hand for a fistbump to the boy’s delight.

“Hi Tony,” Martha leaned around her fiancée to smile sweetly at him.  “My, don’t you look handsome.”

“Only the best for Aunt Martha,” Tony charmed with an ‘aren’t I  _adorable_ ’ beam.

“No, I’m good, thanks.  Great to see you too,” Rose joked, leaning over Tony’s head to kiss Mickey’s cheek and grin at Martha, wriggling her fingers, a gesture the other woman returned.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mickey was contrite, holding up his hands.  “Good to see you, thanks for coming.  Whatever.”

Settling back in her seat, Rose scanned the restaurant.  It was new, in a trendy part of London, with modern finishes and lots of glass and chrome.  Realizing someone sat to her right, she turned with a bright smile.  “Sorry, don’t mean to be rude.  I’m-”

The words died in her throat as she stared at the living, breathing ghost next to her.  It was  _him_.

John.

“Rose,” she finished weakly, meeting his shocked gaze, and she was relieved to note he looked as gobsmacked as she felt.

“John,” he choked out, eyes darting between herself and Tony.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve asked you here,” Martha cut in cheerfully, apparently not noticing the sudden Arctic conditions at the other side of the round table.  “In working out the wedding party, we’d like you two to walk together, and thought it’d be a good idea for us to get together, so you could get to know each other without the chaos of everyone else.”

“Are you getting  _married_?” Tony blurted, tugging at Rose’s arm.  “Mummy-”

“No, silly goose, Martha and Mickey are getting married, we’re just going to have special roles to play,” she managed to choke out, tearing her eyes away from John to give her brother a smile, genuine if not a bit shaky.

“Oh,” he pouted, leaning forward to tell John with a pout, “I didn’t get to be in my Mummy and Daddy’s wedding.”

“That’s a shame,” John said politely after a moment.  “Do you get to be in Martha and Mickey’s?”

“Uh huh.  I’m the ring bear,” Tony perked right up, still thrilled about being trusted with such an important role if how often he talked about it was any indication.  “And I’ve been practicing.”

“Have you now?  Can we see?” Martha asked, and her estimation went right up in Rose’s book; anyone who was good with Tony was all right with her.

Tony nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before snapping them open and holding up his hands.  “Rawr!”  He wriggled his body side to side, roaring and growling.

Rose broke first, bursting into giggles.  She’d known he misunderstood his role, but his interpretation was too cute to correct, and judging by Martha’s loud “Awwww!” she agreed.

“Nicely done, mate,” Mickey approved when he finished, offering another fist bump Tony gleefully returned, giggling as well.

“Well done,” John said stiffly.

“He’s all ready,” Rose agreed, winking at the bride-to-be and ignoring the man beside her.  “So, how do you two-”

They were interrupted by the waitress, a bubbly young thing who took their drink orders (Rose was careful not to order tequila) and rattled off the specials before going on her way.

“How do you know each other?” Rose repeated, once she was gone.

“Hmm?  Oh!  John – Doctor Noble – was one of my teachers first year in med school, really helped me.  I struggled at the beginning, and he offered to tutor me, and just sort of became a mentor.  We’ve done some travelling together – Doctors Without Borders, natural disaster relief, that sort of thing.  When I thought of people I’d like to stand up for me, who knew me, the real me, the Doctor – sorry, John, was the first to come to mind outside of family.”

“See, we decided to keep the wedding party small,” Mickey added.  “Jake’s my best man of course, then it’s just John and her brother Leo.”

“And for me, it’s my sister Tish, you, and Shonara.”

“Of course,” Rose pasted on a fake smile.  “So, Maid of Honor and Best Man, your brother and his girlfriend, and… us.”

Next to her, John took a long drink of his water.  “And how do you two…” he gestured between Rose and Mickey, but she noticed he never took his eyes off Tony.

“We’re old friends, grew up together.  Known each other since we were babies.”  Rose frowned at him, wondering what his preoccupation was with her brother.  Surely he’d seen small children before.  “Hang on, did she just call you ‘ _the Doctor_ ’?”

He shifted uncomfortably, but Martha answered instead.

“Oh!  That’s cause, well, for one he actually  _is_ – and for another, of all our professors the first year, he was the nicest, the best teacher, and overall expert.  Any question, any field – not just medicine – and he’d be able to give a twenty minute lecture on the subject off the cuff.  Genius, he is.  Somewhere along the way he got the nickname, and it just got passed down.  Everyone calls him that.”

“Genius, really?”  Rose shot him a sweet smile.  “Never would’ve guessed.”

He glared at her, and she glared right back, blood boiling at his smug, superior face.  Only the thought that Mickey was counting on her kept her from throwing her drink (still sadly water) in his face and storming out.  Well, that and the fact that storming out with an inquisitive four-year-old was no easy task.

“Oh… kay?” Mickey let out a nervous laugh, and Rose dimly realized he and Martha were staring at them in confusion.  “Problem?”

“No,” Rose and John said in unison, fixing on fake smiles and turning to face the couple.

“So,” she focused on her friend, “how’s wedding planning going?”

* * *

Rose loved her little brother, but never more so than when he declared he had to ‘go peepee’ as soon as the drinks were delivered and appetizers ordered.  Mickey offered to take him and after a moment’s hesitation Rose let him, walking back with them and taking the opportunity for the ladies.  Going inside, she did a quick check to verify she was alone before letting out a muffled scream of frustration and disbelief.

It had been five years since she’d last seen John, and she thought she’d put it all behind her, let it go.  The moment their eyes met, though, it had all come rushing back, overwhelming her.  The attraction was still there, strong as ever, but all the hurt and anger he had nearly overwhelmed her.

Washing her hands thoroughly, she stared in the mirror above the sink.  “I don’t know if I can do this,” she told her reflection.  Outside the door she could hear Tony’s little voice chirping, and Mickey’s lower rumble in reply.

It helped refocus her; she was doing this for Mickey.  Her best friend had found the love of his life, and she would do whatever it took to make his big day perfect – even if it meant being in the same room as the man who had broken her heart.

 _Shit_.

* * *

John smiled politely as Martha chattered on, watching for when the rest of the table returned from the restrooms.  Though he was able to keep up with the conversation enough to nod, smile, and hum in the right places, his mind was a million miles away and five years in the past.

Rose.  She looked more stunning than he remembered, and that said a lot.  She was a mother now, clearly, and while he was happy for her, he was also terrified.

As a medical school professor and a trained doctor himself, he was familiar with all manner of science and mathematics – specifically reproductive biology.  And addition.

Fact: Rose was a mother, clearly unmarried.

Fact: her little boy was roughly four, meaning he would have been conceived around five years ago.

Fact: She had been horrified when she’d seen him, and her expression tensed every time he looked at the kid.

Hypothesis: He was, potentially, a father.  And royally fucked.

* * *

Dinner passed in a blur, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about how rude or uninterested he was coming off.  His mind raced, replaying the last voicemails and texts Rose had sent him.  Messages that had gone unreturned.  The last one, the one from more than a month after the last time he saw her – the one that he deleted without listening to.

Was that it?  In that short message, had she changed his world?  And what she must have thought of him, to never hear back…  His heart dropped.  She must have been scared, so, so scared – abandoned by him, and pregnant to boot.  They’d never talked about their families, the conversations had never gotten that far – did she have anyone?  Was she utterly alone, but for Mickey who clearly adored Tony?

Before he knew it dinner was over, and they were all standing and hugging and  _shit, she’s leaving.  And she’s taking my kid_.

“Rose?”  His voice sounded loud to his own ears, but it made her stop and turn, raising an eyebrow and looking thoroughly pissed.

“What?”

“Can we talk?  For a moment?”  Hands sweating nervously, he stuffed them in his pockets as he waited.

She looked him over, a cold, calculating expression on her face.  “No.  I think you missed your chance.”  Then she spun on her heel, picking up her kid,  _his_  kid, and marched out of the restaurant as he watched, crestfallen.

“What the hell was that?” Martha asked, and it was only when she touched his elbow he shocked back to himself, the world around him finally coming into focus and surround sound.

“Erm, nothing.  Good night.”  He headed for the door, ignoring her calling his name as he reached the street, taking in deep gulps of the fresh air.  A glance to the left and right showed that Rose had disappeared from his life as surely as he had from hers.

“Doctor-” Martha’s voice behind him was a jolt to the system, and without further thought, he took off down the street.

Rose’s face, her voice, then and now, swam through his mind, boiling his blood and assaulting his senses until he damn near drowned in her.

He began to do what he did best, in the end.

Run.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose stalked down the street towards the Tube station, half-dragging Tony along as she fumed.  Thankfully, he was so caught up in the ‘fancy grown up dinner’ and recapping the entire meal for her even though she’d been there that he didn’t notice when she ignored him, lost in her thoughts and anger.

That  _bastard_.

Who did he think he was, showing up in her life after five years of radio silence?  To think he could talk to her.  Talk about what?  It was far too late for his excuses or justifications.  If he wanted to talk, he should’ve returned her calls or texts.  How hard was it to say ‘ _this isn’t working for me, leave me alone_ ’?  Sure, she might’ve been devastated, a little heartbroken and confused, but she could’ve dealt.  It was being ignored, left hanging in the breeze, that angered her.

I deserved better, she thought fiercely, knowing it was true.   _I deserved respect, not to be tossed away like, like… a used plaything.  I deserved_  better.

“Rosie, this is our stop,” Tony broke through her fog, tugging her to a halt.  Looking up at the sign she realized it was, before sighing.

 _Be angry later.  Take care of Tony now_.  “Good catch, little man.  Let’s go.”  They made their way down the steps and onto the train, and for the rest of the trip home she made more of an effort to interact with him instead of letting John ruin her night with her brother.

There were only three men in the world who deserved her time and energy, and John was not one of them.

Not anymore.

* * *

 

Finally slowing to a stop, John took in his surroundings properly for the first time in over twenty minutes.  With a jolt he recognized the location, quickly finding the door he must have subconsciously been aiming for all along.

Ringing in the bell, he started talking as soon as the door opened.  “I’m in trouble.”  Looking up when he got no response, he realized that rather than his best friend, it was his partner standing before him, looking immaculate in a three-piece suit and rather amused.

“I sure hope Jack’s not the father, that would make our friendship rather awkward,” Ianto drawled, stepping back and letting him in, guiding him towards the sitting room just off the hall.

It was too close to the truth, and John just barked out a laugh.  “Sorry.  Is Jack around?”

“I’ll get him, and a cuppa while you wait.  Or would you rather coffee?”

John sank into a plush armchair by the empty fireplace and rubbed his eyes, drained.  “I think it might be more of a scotch conversation, but thanks.”

“Two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”  Ianto disappeared back into the hall, and left alone with his thoughts, John leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he tried to order his swirling thoughts.

“Doc?  Everything all right?”  Jack hurried into the room, dropping into the other armchair as his boyfriend settled the silver serving tray on the little table between them.

“Not really.”  John eased his eyes open, staring at his friend.  “I think I’ve fucked up.”

“What’s going on?  Yan said you were in trouble?”  Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he stared intensely at him, no trace of his usual playfulness or humor.  “Tell me.”

“I saw Rose.”

Jack’s sharp inhale said he still remembered her.  “Where?  How?  When?  What did you do?”

“I had that dinner tonight, with Martha and her boyfriend, remember?”  Jack nodded.  “She’s the bridesmaid they want me to walk with in the wedding.”

“Wow.”  Jack’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t seem to grasp the situation.  “How is that you fucking up, though?  Did you say something inappropriate?  Do Martha and what’s-his-face know about your history together?”

John shook his head, nausea rolling through his stomach as he prepared to face it out loud.  “Jack…”

“What?”

“She’s got a kid.”

After a moment his friend’s eyes widened, mouth dropping.  “And you think…”

“He’s the right age,” John said miserably, “with red hair, like Donna.”

“You met him?”

“She brought him to dinner.  And every time I looked at him, she got weird and tense about it.  And when I tried to talk to her as we were leaving, she ignored me.”  He hung his head in his hands, nerves and guilt roiling in his stomach.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

John looked up at the sound of cut crystal moving against each other to find Jack opening the decanter and pouring scotch into the empty tea cups.

“I don’t think a hot toddy’s enough for this conversation,” Jack flashed him a grin.  “Don’t tell Yan.”

He accepted the mug full of scotch with shaking hands, taking a fortifying sip.  “What do I do?”

“Are you sure the kid’s yours?”

John considered that, staring into the empty fireplace without seeing it, trying to replay the dinner.  “I mean, I guess not, but… she was so weird about it, you know?  Tense.”

“Did he look like you?”

“Not really… redhead like Donna, but he mostly looked like her.  Rose.”

“What’re you going to do?”

Shrugging miserably, John made a helpless gesture.  “What can I do?”

“You need to talk to her, man.”

“I tried, she shut me down!”

“Do you still have her number?”

He didn’t reply.

“John?  Do you?”

Sighing softly, he nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Then call her, try to arrange a meeting.”

“I will.”

Jack let the silence hang there until John looked up, finding himself being watched expectantly.  “What, now?”

“Yes, now.  I want to make sure you do it.”

Grumbling, he nonetheless pulled out his mobile, scrolling to her name and hovering over the ‘call’ button, still unsure.  “What if she hangs up on me?”

“Just dial.”

Biting his lip and closing his eyes, he connected the call, raising it to his ear.

“Speakerphone,” Jack hissed, though both of their faces fell when a recording stated the line was no longer in service.

“Fuck.”

“D’you know where she lived?” his friend suggested hopefully, but John just shook his head.

“No- we were only ever at mine, or we met somewhere.”

“How long were you and this girl together?”

John rubbed his hand over the top of his head, sighing.  “Ten days.”

“Ten days, five years ago,” Jack mused.  “Once is all it takes.  Did you wear a condom?”

“Of course I did,” John snapped, looking up at him.  “And she was on the pill.  But it can happen.”

“See if you can get her number from Martha, then.  Or her address.”

“And say what?” he scoffed, pocketing his mobile again.  “I don’t want her to know – not yet.  What would she think of me?”

Jack let that hang heavily between them for long minutes before finally asking, “What if it’s true?”

“What?”

“What’re you going to do if he’s your kid?” he expanded, leaning back and crossing his arms.  “What if he is?  What if she doesn’t want him to have anything to do with you?”

The possibilities were too horrible to consider.  “I’ll deal with that when I know for sure.  But first, I need to  _know_.”

“When will you see her again?”

“What?”

“For the love of- you’re both in the wedding party, yeah?  I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t asked, but aren’t there more events coming up?  Parties, rehearsals, that sort of thing?”

“There’s an engagement party in a few weeks,” John said slowly, thinking it through.  “I could try to talk to her then, if she goes.”

“That’s the spirit!”

* * *

 

After finally getting Tony to bed, Rose collapsed on her couch in front of the telly, flicking through the channels without seeing the programs, mind racing.

Why did the universe decide to throw them together again?  What did she do to deserve this?  She was happy, damn it, had moved on with her life.  She had a good job, nice friends.  Her parents, Tony.  A roof over her head.  She went out on dates, occasionally.

She was satisfied with her life, even if she wasn’t being…  _satisfied_.  Which just reminded her of how good he’d been at that, and grabbing one of the throw pillows, screamed into it in frustration.

And to think, he’d had the audacity to want to speak with her.  Why?  What could he possibly think he could say that could make up for the last five years?

She’d been falling for him.  Two short weeks and she’d been arse over teakettle, until he stood her up for a date.  She’d called, texted, even stopped by his flat – only to be soundly ignored.  Radio silence.

After a week she got the message, deleting his number in a fit of rage before changing her own.  By the first of the next month, she’d changed her entire life; new number, new job, new hair color.  New Rose.

Same broken heart.

Her mobile rang then, and she didn’t bother to check the caller ID before answering.  “What?”

“So, what the hell was that?” Mickey asked pleasantly, and Rose groaned, sinking deeper into the couch.

“Sorry, think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“Rose.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“What was with the weird vibe between you and John all night?”

“There wasn’t a vibe,” she denied, falling sideways and stretching out.

“The whole point of dinner was for you to get to know each other, yet you pretty much ignored him.  Which was impressive, considering he never took his eyes off you.”

“Maybe he recognized me,” Rose suggested, folding an arm behind her head and tucking her mobile into the crook of her elbow, letting it rest there.

“Yeah, but not as the Vitex heiress.  Was more personal than that.”

She stayed silent, listening to the breathing on the other end of the line.  Sometimes it sucked to have a best friend who knew her so well.  Then she thought of the other girls she was ‘friends’ with, the other high society heiresses, and knew she was lucky to have someone like Mickey in her corner.  Even if occasionally it was a pain.  “Listen, I don’t want to talk about it, but it’s not a problem, yeah?  Promise not to make trouble – your big day’s too important to me for that.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Mickey snarked.  “Big weight off my chest.  Seriously, if you want or need to talk…”

Rose let him trail off.

“Fine.  Do what you want.  But, please- don’t ruin this for me.”

“I’ll do my best not to.”

“Good enough – for now.  Right, gotta go.  Love you babe.”

“Love you too.”

The call ended, and now she was faced with a different problem – figuring out how to keep her word.

* * *

 

Mickey ended the call, frowning.

“So what did she say?” Martha asked, setting the mugs on the coffee table in favor of curling up in her fiancé’s arms.

“Denies everything, of course, then promises it won’t be an issue – meaning it’s not nothing.  They definitely know each other.”

“I wonder how,” she mused, handing him his cuppa.  “How would they have crossed paths?”

Mickey shrugged one shoulder carefully, lest he disturb her.  “Dunno.  Some charity event, maybe?”

“Like a fundraiser?  Nah, that’s not his thing.  Volunteering, or actually doing something to help, maybe.  Wonder what went wrong.”

“You could always just call the Doc and ask,” he pointed out, making her scoff.

“Absolutely not.  He’d probably head for the hills.  No, we need to figure this out together.”

“How?”

Martha bit her lip, staring off into space as she thought.  “We should set them up.  You know, like a blind date or something?  Then spy.”

“Rose won’t go for it,” he predicted.  “She’ll figure out that’s the plan in a second, if it comes from us.”

“Well, what’s your idea?”

Mickey shook his head, looking around in hopes of inspiration.  His gaze landed on a picture of him and Rose as kids, and he slowly smiled as it came to him.  “It doesn’t come from us.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Mickey got excited, realizing it might work.  “I’ll get Jackie to set her up, and you have Jack tell him – they may guess it’s coming from us, but they won’t  _know_.  Then they’ll go, and see each other, and maybe it’ll get resolved and we won’t have to worry!”

“What if we just make it worse?”  Martha worried her thumb over the mug’s handle.  “What if they can’t stand each other, and ruin the wedding?”

“Worst comes to worst, we’ll make Leo and Rose walk and stick Shonara with John,” he figured.  “Odds are they’ll be fighting by then anyway, and want a break.”

“True.”

“So, we’ll set them up?”

Martha grinned, reaching for her mobile.  “I’ll call Jack.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Welcome home!”  Rose cried, already opening the boot of the car to stow her parents’ luggage.

“Oh, I missed you!” her mother grabbed her, hugging her tight.  “How was your week?  Was Tony good?”

“We had lots of fun, didn’t we?” Rose said, and Tony was practically bouncing through the roof, still strapped into his car seat but twisting around to see his parents through the boot.

“Yeah, lots!  Mummy can I live with Rose all the time?”

“It’s nice to be missed,” their father sighed, kissing Rose’s cheek as soon as his wife let her go.  “Thanks for getting us, love.”

“Happy to,” Rose reassured, making sure all the luggage was safely away before making for the driver’s seat.  Pete settled next to her while Jackie climbed in the back, showering kisses over her baby.  “How was your trip?”

* * *

The drive to her parents’ house flew by as they chatted, mostly about the ten days of sun and sand Jackie had relished.  The trip had been a surprise for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, travelling to an all-inclusive resort on Aruba, and her mother hadn’t known where they were going until on her way to the airport.

Rose was pleased to note the tension between her parents had eased; the trip had been her suggestion a few months earlier after Tony had mentioned in passing that they’d been fighting more.  They looked happy and in love again, and it soothed her aching heart to see that.  At the end of the day she believed in love, and her parents were a major part of that.  If they couldn’t make it work, what hope did she have?

After a hearty lunch courtesy of the chef, Rose was finally alone with her mother once Tony dragged their father away to show him all the arts and crafts he and Rose had done.  Settling together in the family room with mugs of tea, Rose looked carefully at her mother.

“Right, just us know.  How was your trip?”

“Oh, Rose, it was wonderful,” Jackie sighed happily.  “I thought it might be a nightmare, us being alone together for so much time, but in truth it was just what we needed.  Away from everyone and everything, no work, no chores-” Rose snorted at that; a veritable army of maids meant the only ‘chores’ in the house were Tony cleaning up his toy room, “-and I don’t mean we didn’t miss you, but… we got to be just us against the world again, like when you was a baby.  And we talked.  Really talked, about important stuff and nothing at all.  I have to admit I’ve been worried, lately, but… it was still there, Rose, the spark.  Oh sweetheart, you ever find someone you can’t stand to lose, don’t you let them go, all right?”

Unbidden, John’s face popped to mind, but Rose forcefully pushed the thought away.  “I’m glad you were able to reconnect.”

“We were.”  Her mother looked soft and peaceful, a stark contrast to the last few months.  “It helped, not having Tony around, climbing into our bed at all hours of the night.  God, we had so much sex…”

“We had a good week too,” Rose interrupted with a blush, scowling as her mother laughed.  “He was really good.  Missed you, obviously, but I was able to hold him just to our evening calls, and I’m glad I did from the sounds of it.  Went to different children-friendly museums, did the bus tour, that sort of thing.  Fair warning, he’s decided he wants to be king when he grows up – so if he plans a rebellion, here’s your warning sign.”

“Thanks,” Jackie rolled her eyes, “appreciate that, really.  How was work?”

“Fine.  Had a couple client meetings, went well.  All together a quiet week – I mostly worked from home at night after he went to bed.”

“What’d you do with him while you were in meetings?”

“My assistant, God bless her, was happy to watch him, and you know he loves her.  ‘Rosie, she has red hair like I do!’  The worst he behaved was when he wanted to go home with her and not me on Tuesday, so overall, not bad.”

“That’s good.  So, no dates or nothing?”

“Mum!  How was I supposed to go on a date while babysitting, yeah?  Course not.  I did have dinner with Mickey and Martha, though – I’m sure Tony’ll tell you all about it.”

“Oh really?  Just them?”

Rose bit her lip, trying to be nonchalant as she added, “Well, and the groomsman I’m supposed to walk with.  And Tony.”

“Is he cute?”

“So cute, though he hated his suit til I said Mickey was wearing one too.  That kid is something else,” she deliberately misunderstood, sending her mother a warning look.

“Speaking of cute-”

“You brought it up.”

“-I’ve got a date set up for you.”

“What?  Mum, no!  We’ve talked about this!”

“Oh, relax,” Jackie soothed, “it’s not a society friend.  Sort of.  I’ve learned my lesson there.  No, it’s a perfectly respectable gentleman I think you’d really like.  Tuesday at 7.  Look sexy.”

“Mum, I don’t wanna,” she whined, burrowing down into the couch with a glare.  “Stop setting me up.”

“Then find someone yourself, so I won’t have to,” her mother shot back.  “I won’t live forever you know, I’d like to see my grandkids some day.”

“You’re forty-five, not eighty,” Rose retorted.  “I’ve plenty of time.”

Jackie grew uncharacteristically serious, grabbing Rose’s arm.  “Listen to me.  I know it seems like that, but you don’t.  You keep thinking like that, and the next twenty years will fly by before you know it and you won’t.  I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”

“I am happy,” she argued quietly.  “And I don’t need a man to make me moreso.”

“If you say so.”

* * *

Tuesday at five-thirty found Rose wrapped in a towel staring into her closet.  “I don’t want to go,” she informed her cat Tardis, who simply yawned and kneaded the carpet beneath her.  “Now I’m talking to you.  Well, as long as you don’t  _reply_ …”

Starting at the beginning again, she rifled through her dresses.   _Too long.  Too short.  Too grandma.  Too slutty.  Too… ugh.  Too fancy.  Too casual.  How can I have so many dresses that aren’t appropriate?!_

One hidden in the back caught her eye, and she pulled it out, staring at it with a grimace.  She’d only worn it once- the night John ghosted her.  She’d bought it for him, standing in the fitting room imagining him taking it off her.

She’d come home that night and cried, throwing it into a corner.  When she moved she had it cleaned and pressed, then hung at the very back, never again to see the light of day but unable to part with it.

On some level she recognized she’d been saving it for him – but that wasn’t ever going to happen, so she pulled it off the hanger and put it on with her best underwear, needing the emotional support it would provide.  She had no intention of letting this blind date see her knickers, but knowing she was sexy underneath helped her feel sexy on the outside.

An hour later she kissed her cat goodbye, looking forward to this date now and what it meant.  Halfway through doing her hair she realized she  _didn’t_ want to turn into a crazy cat lady, and while she doubted this setup would go anywhere, it was time for her to start again, putting herself out there and being open to a new relationship.

With the confidence of a woman who looked good and knew it, she stuck her hand in the air.  “Taxi!”

* * *

Walking into the restaurant, she stepped up to the maître d’.  “Hi, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here – my name’s Rose Tyler?”

The man’s eyes lit up, clearly recognizing the name, and she fought a grimace.  “Yes, of course!  Please, come this way.  We’re delighted to have you join us this evening, Miss Tyler.  If there’s anything you need, anything at all, please let us know and we’ll do our best to accommodate you.”

“Thank you,” she said graciously, biting her lip as she was led to a table set for two in the very middle of the bustling restaurant.  Her date was already there, back to her, and it gave her a chance to observe him from behind.   _Hang on…_

Her chair was pulled out for her, and she settled easily as the maître d’ draped her napkin across her lap.  “Please, have a wonderful evening,” he gushed, bowing slightly before backing away.

Rose watched him go with a tense smile, unable to bear looking at her dinner partner.  Pulling out her phone, she shot Mickey a simple text.

_I’m gonna kill you._

After adjusting her napkin and straightening her place setting, she ran out of ways to stall and looked up, sighing.  “I’m sorry, was my ‘no’ not clear enough?  I know men sometimes have difficulty comprehending the meaning of the word when a woman says it.”

John glared right back, arms folded on the table in front of him.  “This wasn’t me,” he protested, “though I should’ve guessed – Jack doesn’t usually try to set me up anymore.”

Rose wanted desperately to leave, to just stand up and walk out, but she couldn’t; she’d been recognized, and if she tried, it would be all over the internet before she even hit the door.  “Why can’t you leave me alone?  You’ve already proven capable of that, considering how easily you disappeared from my life.”

He recoiled slightly at that.  “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, are you?  Perfect, then everything’s fine.  Want to fuck in the bathroom?” she asked sarcastically, keeping her voice low.  To her frustration, her body at least seemed to be on board with that plan, already reacting to his presence, heat pooling low in her belly.

“Rose-”

“How  _dare_ you.  First you- you- you dump me without so much as a goodbye, then when we do stumble across each other again, you could’ve tried to look just a  _little_  less horrified!”

“I-”

“Not to mention how creepy you were being!”

“Creepy?!”

“Yes, creepy!  You kept staring at my brother like you’d never seen a child before!  What is  _wrong_ with you?”

John’s eyes went very wide, arms falling to his sides as his jaw dropped.  “He’s your  _brother_?”

“No, I kidnapped the first cute child I saw,” she snapped.  “ _Yes_ , he’s my brother, who did you think he was?”

“Your son.”  He looked like he’d walked face first into a glass door, absolutely gobsmacked.  “ _My_ son.”

Rose stared at him in shock for a very long minute, before she began to laugh.  All of her tension and frustration boiled off, and it came out as a sobbing laugh.  Her shoulders shook, belly aching, as she buried her face in her hands to try to contain the sound.  She knew she was attracting attention, but the relief coursing through her didn’t allow her to care.  “ _What_?” she finally managed to gasp, reaching for her water and drinking greedily, trying to control herself.

John just looked embarrassed now, his ire having faded to shame and sheepishness.  “I thought- I mean, he’s the right age- I thought…”

“You thought I’d gotten pregnant and kept it from you,” Rose finished, lips twitching.  “That’s barely a step up from assuming I’m a prostitute.”

He winced, likely at the memory from their first night together.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated lamely.

“Tony’s my brother, my parent’s accidental twentieth wedding anniversary present to each other,” she said dryly.  “They went away for their anniversary last week, so he stayed with me.”

“But… he called you Mummy,” John protested.

“No, he was probably starting to say some variation of ‘Mummy said-’ and I just cut him off.  He doesn’t like following the rules, but heaven help you if he catches you not doing so.”

“Right,” he agreed faintly, still looking like the tiniest feather could knock him straight over.  “Okay.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Rose suggested, waiting until he nodded to look around, easily spotting a waiter.  He was loitering helplessly a few feet away, pretending to be busy at the bussing stand and sending them anxious looks.  Nodding her head slightly she gestured for him to approach.

She needed a drink.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat short as an update, but a critical scene. Thanks for reading!

They kept the conversation light throughout dinner, falling into their old, if short-lived, patterns, and Rose couldn’t help but remember how easy it had been to talk to him.  Despite their different life experiences and circumstances, they held similar enough opinions to have a spirited debate without it turning into an argument.  He was funny, funnier than she remembered, and could listen to him crack jokes for hours.

He asked her about herself, what had changed in her life, about her brother.  Now that his assumptions had been disproven, he seemed much more receptive to her stories about Tony and she realized he must have had his ‘revelation’ and completely shut down, going into a tailspin.  He told stories about his students, several of which featured Martha.

* * *

By the time dessert arrived, a single slice of apple pie to share, it felt like no time had passed, as though they’d merely rescheduled the date he hadn’t shown up for.  The conversation took on a more flirtation tone, and she’d slipped one foot out of its pump to glide along his leg, teasing him.  The floor-length tablecloths meant no one could see when she settled her foot in his lap.

John jumped, breaking off the story he was telling to stare down at his lap for a moment.

“Problem?” she asked innocently, and after a moment he smiled.

“No.”  His left hand disappeared beneath the table, wrapping around her foot and rubbing his thumb lightly against the arch, making her shiver.

When the check came he paid without blinking, even though Rose knew it must have been several hundred dollars between their courses and two bottles of expensive wine.  She didn’t offer to pay her half and he didn’t imply he expected her to in any way, and she considered it the least he could do after how their initial relationship ended.

As he signed the credit card slip she reluctantly pulled her foot back, sliding it into her shoe and pushing back from the table.

“Erm, shall we finish our coffee,” he suggested, and a smirk grew across her face as she realized he was too aroused to walk out without attracting undue attention.

“All right.”

They sipped leisurely, until finally he pushed his chair back.  “Ready?”

They walked out arm in arm into a cool evening, and Rose shivered.

“Here.”  John wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, and she nestled her head on his shoulder as they started walking.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a little park nearby, I thought we could talk there.”

“Okay.”  Rose let him lead, warring with herself.  Part of her, specifically the part between her thighs, wanted to let bygones be bygones and go home with him.  The rest, however, recognized that as nice as this had turned out to be, there were still significant unresolved issues, and as satisfying as a shag would be, it wouldn’t solve anything.

 _I deserve better_ , she reminded herself firmly.

The park was tiny, but a fountain was up and running with benches circling it, and they settled on one next to a lamp.

“Here.”  John shrugged out of his leather jacket, and Rose slipped it on without argument, relaxing into the comforting fabric.  It smelled like him, and was warm, making her feel like he was hugging her.

“Thanks.”

“You deserve an explanation,” he said shortly, “and an apology.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Those were the best two weeks of my life,” John started roughly, settling his palm on her knee.  “You were smart, and funny, and beautiful.  More than I could have possibly imagined.”

Rose didn’t react, just listening stoically.

He ran his hand over his face, sighing.  “But… I’m twice your age.  And I realized that sooner or later, you’d find someone younger, someone who deserved you.  It would hurt like hell when you left me, and… so I decided to leave first.”

“Why not just tell me you felt this way?”

“What would you have said?”  He gave her a half-smile.  “Tried to talk me out of it?  Told me I was wrong?”  She nodded.  “I knew that, and I knew that while it may have been true at the time, it wouldn’t forever.  I was a coward, I admit that, but… I wanted you to find someone who deserved you.  I didn’t want you to miss that moment, wasting months or years on an old man like me.”

Rose sighed.  “I suppose I understand – a little.”

He stayed silent, and Rose waited as well, just raising her eyebrows when he didn’t continue.

“You said something about an apology?” she prompted.

“Right.  Rose, I am  _genuinely_ sorry.  I lo- cared for you a great deal, but I was scared.  I should’ve talked to you – or at least broken it off properly.  I am sorry, and I apologize.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “Thank you, but… that was still all about you.  It’s  _all_ been all about you.”

John looked surprised, blinking at her.  “Oh.  What I mean to say is… I hurt you, Rose, and I abandoned you.  I’m sorry.”

“You did hurt me,” Rose said simply.  “Very much.  And you’ve made me doubt myself.  I…  _cared_ about you too, and it was growing to be so much more, and you just discarded me like it was nothing.  I appreciate hearing your side, but that doesn’t change how many nights I cried myself to sleep over you, wondering where it went wrong.”

“How can I make this up to you?  How can I show you how sorry I am?”

“Be my friend.”

“What do you mean?”  He scrunched up his face, making her heart ache at how adorable he was.

“The wedding is in six months.  Between now and then, let’s be friends.  We can spend time together, whatever – just nothing romantic.   _Or_ sexual.  We’ll see how it goes.  Then after the wedding, if we’re still interested, we can see.”

She watched him think, wondering what was going through his mind.  Did he even still want her?  It seemed like he did, but he had back then too.  She couldn’t risk jumping back in, not again.  He would have to earn a spot in her bed this time, prove that not only was he as committed to this potential relationship as she was, that he believed that she was.

“All right,” he finally agreed.  “Friends – for now.  Then we’ll see about after.”

“It’s a deal.”  Rose smiled, and he grinned back.  “However, for this to have any chance of working, we need a few ground rules.”

“Sure.”

“First – take your hand off my knee.”

“Sorry!”  He pulled it away like he’d been scalded, making her snort.

“I don’t think excessive touching is a good idea – mostly cause it’s too tempting.  You put your hands on me, and I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything other than where I  _really_ want them.”

His expression cleared, and he smiled.  “Oh, I understand.”

“No being alone at each other’s flats.”

“Makes sense.”

“No  _kissing_.”

“Not even if I…” John trailed off, leaning forward and pressing his lips gently to her cheek.

“No.”  Rose’s breath caught, her body crying out for her.  “Too tempting.”

“Mhmm.”  He nuzzled his nose against hers before pulling away.  “I concur.”

“No excessive drinking.”

“What exactly  _can_ we do?”

“Talk.  Go exploring – London’s full of history and art, music, culture.  See a show, have dinner – whatever.”

“Dancing?”

“Starting at the wedding,” Rose said firmly, flicking his chest.  “Otherwise, we’ll end up…  _dancing_.”

“You’re a very good  _dancer_ though.”

“As are you, and we  _dance_ very well together – but it’s too-”

“Tempting,” he finished for her, huffing a laugh.  “I get it.”

“Give me your mobile.”

He did, and Rose was only slightly surprised to find her old number still in his contacts.  She updated it, quickly taking a selfie and adding it to the file so if she’d call, it would show.  Then she rang herself, letting it go long enough to register on her own so she could resave his information.  “There we are.”

“Okay.”

They smiled at each other, and Rose giggled slightly at the adoration in his eyes.  “Did you really think-”

John groaned, hanging his head.  “Can we never talk about that again?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two steps forward, one step back. Things are more fragile than they realize.

A few weeks later, Rose walked out of the conference room at work, humming to herself.  The client had loved her designs, and for once she was ahead of schedule as she made her way towards her office.  Pulling out her phone, she started composing a message to John.

_Can you sneak away for lunch?_

She hit send, walked around the corner – and found him lounging against her assistant’s desk.  Stopping in surprise, she watched him for a moment, grinning.  She didn’t know he even knew where she worked.

His phone chirped and he pulled it out of his pocket, smiling as he composed a reply.  Before it reached her, her assistant stepped out of her office and noticed him.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” he replied, and Rose’s nose scrunched.  Did they know each other?  “Ready to go?”   _What_?

Donna grabbed her purse and jacket, locking her computer.  “Yep.  Where’re you taking me today?”  Coming around to greet him, they hugged briefly; and he kissed her cheek.   _What_?

“Just a surprise somewhere for my best girl.”   _What_?!

Donna laughed, linking arms with John and dragging him towards the elevator bank off towards their left; they never even looked at Rose.  “Come on, loverboy.”

Rose’s heart fell, face flaming.  Oh, God.   _Oh, God_!  It was just like Jimmy and Margaret, only somehow  _more_ visually nauseating.  Peeking around the corner to make sure they were gone, she stole into her office and slammed the door behind her, locking it.  Dumping her tablet and phone on her desk, she fell onto her couch and burst into tears.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, she had managed to get herself under control.  Her makeup was a loss, but she kept wipes in her desk and no longer looked like a raccoon; instead her appearance was that of a ghost, pale face and red eyes.

Still sniffling, she unlocked and cracked her door before logging onto her computer, determined to bury herself in work.  Mindlessly clicking through her email, deleting the spam and flagging items to reply to later, she didn’t look up when someone knocked on her door.

“What?”

“Rose?”  Her assistant, Donna, poked her head in.  “You busy?”

She waited, trying to decide if she wanted to be petty.   _Keep your cool; there may be more to the story_ , she tried to convince herself, but at the end of the day she was a generous soul and so she just sighed.  “What’s up?”

“Are you all right?”  Donna came in, standing in front of her.  “You look like death.  Did the Emersons not like your design?  But it was perfect!  Exactly what they wanted!”

“No, they loved it- did you need something?”

“If it’s a bad time…”

Donna might have been twice her age and bossy to boot, but she was at heart a caring, compassion person, who was efficient at her job and made Rose better at hers.  Despite the betrayal she had suffered not an hour before, Rose decided in that moment that it was John who deserved her anger, not Donna.  Donna didn’t even know she was seeing someone – sort of.

“No, it’s okay.  What is it?”

“I wanted you to meet someone.”

Rose felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart; oh, God, John was about to walk in, wasn’t he?  Then she had an unpleasant thought – how long had Donna been seeing him?   _What if this time Rose was Margaret_?  “Okay!” she squeaked, running a nervous hand over her hair.

Donna beamed, leaning out the door and gesturing someone in.  After a moment she stepped out, before tugging a reluctant, sheepish John behind her.  “John, this is my boss.  Rose, my brother John.”

So distracted by his presence in her office, Rose almost missed the introduction as John’s expression did a rapid change from shock to happiness to confusion.  “Wait, what?”

“My brother, John,” Donna repeated, frowning at her.  “Seriously, are you okay?”

Rose felt weak, confusion and hope fighting a war in her chest.  “Brother?”

“Yeah,” John forced out a chuckle.  “Donna – my sister.”

“Of course.”  He mentioned her frequently; nearly any story from his childhood involved her, and Rose loved hearing them, loved the brash and bold woman he described.  It had never occurred to her how similar his description was to her assistant.  “Your  _sister_.”  And then in a move entirely unlike her in the workplace, she flung herself into his arms, growing slightly weepy.  “God, she’s your  _sister_.”

“Yes?”  John wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she sniffled again.  “What-”

“I saw you,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his neck.  “When you were here to pick her up, I guess, I saw you and I thought- I thought-”

“Oh, Rose.”  His grip on her tightened, swaying her slightly.  “I’m sorry.  But didn’t you see my message?  I told you I had plans with my sister.”

Rose shook her head, burrowing it into his neck.  “Didn’t look.  Too busy crying.”

“Oh, I’m sorry love.”  He didn’t seem to notice the epithet, merely whispering soothingly into her hair.  “I can’t imagine what you must have thought.  There’s no one else, surely you know that.”

“I thought maybe- cause we’re not having sex-”

“It’s you, Rose,” he interrupted, guiding her head away from his shoulder to see her face.  “There’s no one else – I don’t want anyone else.  I’ve already got the best – I’ve got you.”

“What the hell’s going on?”  Donna’s voice broke their spell, and John settled Rose back on her feet.

“Um…”  Rose bit her lip, looking up at him, wondering what he wanted his sister to know.

“We’re dating,” he said shortly, grinning down at Rose.  “All right with that?”

She returned the smile, even though that fear and hurt still lingered in the back of her mind.  “More than.”

“Since when?”

“A few weeks five years ago, and then the month,” John explained, shrugging.  “Sorry I didn’t tell you, it’s just… fragile still.  Obviously.”

Comprehension hit Donna like a bolt of lightning then, making her eyes go wide and her jaw drop.  “ _No_!”

“What?”

“You’re her?”  Donna turned to Rose, looking her over.  “Oh my God you  _are_!  You’re the girl!”

“I am?  What girl?”  Rose’s mind raced, trying to figure out what her assistant-turned-boyfriend’s-sister was talking about.

“Donna…”

“So, five years ago this one shows up on my doorstep,” Donna started, ignoring his pleading face, “completely soused and rambling on about some girl and that it was somehow  _my_ fault she now had a broken heart.  He was a bit hard to understand, to be honest.  Absolute basket case.  Talked about how nice and pretty and smart she was ‘til he passed out – and it took a  _while_.  When he woke up he refused to discuss it, but… it happened.  And it was about  _you_.  Wasn’t it?”

Rose merely shrugged, trying to take that in as she looked up at John, who was scowling.

“Maybe,” he reluctantly admitted, crossing his arms.  “Shut up – both of you.”

“I don’t know how to react to that,” she murmured, leaning into his side.

“Are you busy?  Can you take the rest of the day, I mean?”  Unfolding his arms, he wrapped one around her shoulders and held her to him.

“Um, yeah.  I think so, hold on.”  Reluctantly stepping out of his embrace, she checked her calendar.  “All clear.”  Putting on a quick  _out of office_ , she shut down.  “Donna, I emailed you earlier the final details for a follow-up with the Emersons next month, this time in-house; once you get that set up, you can take the rest of the day as well and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You got it, boss,” Donna smiled.  “And tomorrow, we’re going to lunch – I want to hear your side of all this.”

“All right.”

John looked between them, frowning.  “I… do not like that idea.”

“Too damn bad.”  Rose grinned at him, letting her tongue peek out between her teeth.  “Come on, you can buy me chips.”

“Oh can I now?” he retorted, watching as she grabbed her things.  “Lovely.  Let’s go.”

“See you tomorrow, Donna,” Rose said, rolling her eyes as John stalked out.  “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Donna winked, making her blush as she stepped out into the hallway.

“Right, so chips?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's commented - I will respond individually when I get the chance, but I appreciate all the nice things you've said, and I hope that you continue to enjoy this journey!

Feeling terrible, John picked at the chips.  “I have no idea why my card was declined, I’m so sorry.”

“It was my turn anyway.”  Seemingly nonplussed, Rose was chowing down on her own order, and he realized she must have skipped lunch.   _Too busy crying over you.  Again.  Jackass._

“You’re too forgiving.”

Rose’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, before slowly lowering.  “Clearly, we have communication issues,” she started, staring down at her chips.  “And trust issues.  And you-thinking-too-hard is a problem.  But… I still think it’s worth pursuing.  I still want to find out what we’re capable of.  Do you?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, leaning forward and reaching for her hand, which she gave willingly.  “I meant it, when I said it was you.  And there hasn’t been anyone else since we first met, by the way.”

Her eyes widened, grip tightening on his hand.  “Not for me, either,” Rose breathed.  “I… really liked you, John.”

“What about now?”

She was silent for long moments, making his heart race with worry.  “I’m falling,” she finally spoke. “Hard, and fast.  And that terrifies me, because the last time you just up and disappeared on me.  I can’t… I can’t give myself to you if I still think there’s a chance you’ll vanish again.”

“I  _won’t_ ,” he promised softly, thumb rubbing over the back of her hand.  “I swear to you.  How can I make you believe me?”

“Time.  That’s why I want to wait until after the wedding.  That’s what I need.”  She met his eye then, a steely glint there, and he knew he couldn’t change her mind even if he wanted to.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.  Can I make a revision to our original agreement, however?”

Rose’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded.  “Depends – what is it?”

“You said ‘friends’,” he started slowly.  “I want to say dating.  Exclusively.  And nothing physical, that’s fine, I’m not trying to talk you out of it – but it might help  _you_  to know that as far as I’m concerned, we’re together.  If that’s what you want.  So if people ask, you can say you have a boyfriend – they don’t need to know what is or isn’t happening in the bedroom.”

“You want to be my  _boyfriend_?” Rose laughed, throwing her head back, and he was momentarily stunned by her beauty.

“Are you sure you want me?” he countered.  “I’m twenty years older than you, Rose.  Is that really what you want for your future?  I must be about your parents’ age.”

“You are,” she shrugged.  “But I don’t care.  Really, I don’t.  Because I see  _you_ , John.  I see the man you are.  That’s what I want.  I just… I  _knew_.  I knew.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

Rose shook her head, biting her lip.  “It’s not about deserve.”

“If you say so.”  He picked up another chip, gesturing for her to continue eating.  “What will your parents say, though?  I actually don’t know much about them, you’ve never said.”

She barked out a laugh, glancing around carefully at the other patrons.  Other than them, only two or three others were scattered at the tables, none paying them a lick of attention and seemingly too far away to hear their conversation.  “Erm, they’re your age actually – they had me at twenty.  Um, they’ve been married since.  Mum used to do hairdressing and stuff, was pretty good at it – now she’s a homemaker, I guess.  We lived on an Estate until I was… about four.”

Rose licked her lips, looking nervous, and he squeezed her hand.  “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“My dad’s always been sort of an inventor, having these mad ideas.  None of them went anywhere for the longest time, until… he created this brand of health drinks.”

“It did well then?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes.  “Ever heard of Vitex?”

John’s eyes went wide, staring at her in disbelief.  “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“You’re Pete Tyler’s daughter?”

“Yep.  And thank you, for not calling me ‘the Vitex heiress’.  I  _hate_  that.”

He shook his head, trying to process this revelation.  Of course he’d heard of Vitex, everyone had. It was the best-selling health drink, and his unofficial experiments and testing of the beverages showed that while the benefits were modest, it certainly wasn’t a scam as the company’s opponents liked to claim.  Its business practices were also respectable, heavily supporting various charities and reinvesting in the community.  There were mumblings about Pete Tyler eventually running for a seat in the House of Commons, and maybe even being Prime Minister someday.

“I had no idea.”

“Thanks,” she grinned wryly.  “I may’ve grown up with money most of my life, but it was just… there.  My parents still brought me up as though it could disappear any second; I certainly wasn’t raised in the lap of luxury.  I went to a good school, but I still had crappy summer jobs and had to earn spending money.  My brother, on the other hand…”

“Do you live at home?” John asked, curious.  “At least, that was the impression I got the first time round.”

“I did then,” Rose confirmed, “but after I graduated uni I moved out.  They bought me a nice flat as a graduation gift, but I’ve been living on my salary since.”

His brow furrowed, filtering that in with what he’d already known.  “I thought you were already working when we met.”

“Yeah, but it was summer,” she explained.  “Internship.”

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“My age.”  Rose crossed her arms, leaning forward on the table as she steadily met his gaze.  “You keep thinking it’s an issue for me… is it really a problem for you?”

John exhaled.  “I’m forty-six, Rose.  I’m a year older than your  _father_.  What’s he going to think?”

“So that’s a yes then,” she deduced, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to deny it.  “Okay.”

“I’m falling too, Rose,” he murmured, closing his eyes.  “Desperately.  You’re not the only one afraid the other’s going to find something better.”

“So where do we go from here?”  Rose looked tired, toying with her fork and stabbing chips without lifting them to her mouth.  “What next?”

“We keep dating?”  John rubbed his hands over his face, trying to think.  “And we just… talk, I suppose.  It’s like you said – it just needs time.  Then we reevaluate after the wedding.”

“All right.”

Rose still looked sad, and hurt, and his heart ached.  “Hey.”  He extended his hands across the table, palms up, and after a long look she settled her own on top.  “There’s no one else’s hand I’d rather hold.”

She attempted a grin, and though it was still sad, it was genuine, and he smiled back.

“Okay.”

* * *

When Rose walked into the office the next morning, Donna was already seated at her desk and on the phone, arguing with a vendor.

She waved, and Rose nodded in return, wincing as Donna’s voice raised.  She was an excellent assistant, hard-working and organized, exactly what Rose’s occasionally-scatterbrained personality needed to keep her on track.  But she was scary, and Rose was always thankful when Donna’s yelling wasn’t directed at her.

Twenty minutes later, once Rose had grabbed a cuppa and started going through her emails, Donna rapped on the half-opened door.

“Come in.”

“So…” her assistant prompted, settling on one of Rose’s guest chairs.  “What happened after you left yesterday?  No dirty details, I don’t need that much information about my big brother, but otherwise, tell me everything.”

“Uh…” Rose shuffled a few papers, coughing awkwardly.  “Were you able to-”

“The Emerson meeting is fully scheduled, I sent the Robertson’s documents to the printers, and arranged all three potential-client meetings for next week.  Work is fine.  Talk personal,” Donna ordered.  “The curiosity is  _killing_  me.  The idea of you and John is at the same time mind-boggling and perfectly obvious.  I can’t believe I didn’t think of setting you up first.”

“What do you know?” Rose asked, biting her lip.

“‘Know’ might be a bit strong, but I have a few facts that I suspect are all relevant.  One – Five years ago I stand John up for drinks, and the next afternoon he calls and  _thanks_  me.  That’s beyond strange.  Two – for the following week every time I talked to him, he sounded like he was on Cloud Nine – which is impressive, considering he can be the grumpiest bastard I’ve ever met.  Three – he shows up on my doorstep at one in the morning blitzed, moaning and grumbling on about some girl’s heart  _I_  somehow broke.  Four – he hasn’t had a relationship since.  Five – in the last three weeks, he has reverted to cavity-causing-sweet happy John.  Six – he spent all of lunch yesterday telling me about all the places he’s been lately, which is surprising for a bloke who basically leaves his flat to go to work.”

“Wow,” Rose blinked at the veritable waterfall of information.  “I… don’t even know where to start with that.”

“The beginning’s usually a good place,” Donna drawled.

“The beginning,” she repeated, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her stomach.  “Okay.  Um, we met five years ago at a club, on a night when you cancelled on him at the last moment.  We were together for almost two weeks when he stood me up and completely ghosted me.  A month ago we met again at a dinner for our mutual friends, Martha… something, Jones I think, and Mickey Smith.  We’re supposed to walk together in the wedding.”

Donna’s face dropped.  “Wait, what?   _He_  ghosted  _you_?”

“Yep.”

“That  _idiot_!” she burst out, to Rose’s surprise.  “I’ve seen you two together for about thirty seconds, but I  _know_  you, and I know him, and you must be the best fucking thing to ever happen to him.  And he just-  _moron_.”

“Thank you?”  Rose was touched by her vote of confidence.  “D’you really think so?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“The age difference?”

“So what?  Who cares?”  Rose’s eyebrow shot up, and she nodded.  “Of course he does.  Cause he’s an idiot.  Does it bother you?”

“No.  But he… seems to think I’ll want to trade him in for a younger model somewhere along the way.”

“Will you?”

Slowly, Rose shook her head.  “No.  I… well…”

Comprehension sparked in Donna’s eyes, and she nodded wisely.  “I see.  But as smart as he is- and he is, certified genius, him- he’s a right bloody idiot.  And a prat.”

“Thanks.”  The women shared a smile.

“What if…” Rose started, biting her lip in worry.  She considered Donna to be a friend, if only casually, but now she was John’s sister.  Would she keep Rose’s confidence?

“Donna your assistant’s perfectly capable of keeping secrets from Donna his sister,” Donna said, seemingly reading her mind.  “And I’m actually the perfect person to talk to, considering I know him.  Then so long as I can bully him into telling  _me_  things, then maybe I can keep you two goobers from another miscommunication.”

“What if he wants someone older?” she blurted.  “Someone his own age.”

Donna’s eyebrow shot up, and she gave her an incredulous look.  “Know a lot of blokes who’d trade younger women for older ones, do you?  In my experience, it’s usually the other way around.”

She shrugged, slumping.  “John’s not like that.  At least, I don’t think so.  He says he wants me, but… he said that the first time.  How do I know he’s not going to get scared again?”

“I can’t promise that,” Donna said quietly.  “But I can say this- he  _really_  likes you, Rose.  If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be this torn up about it all.”

Rose nodded, blinking her eyes to chase away tears.  “Thanks.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Keep seeing each other.  After Martha and Mickey’s wedding at the end of the year we’re going to reevaluate.”

Donna merely smiled, looking down at her notebook and shuffling a few papers.  “One last thing before we focus on work…”

“Shoot.”

“We should go shopping together somewhere along the line so I can make sure John picks out a nice ring for you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha and Mickey's engagement party

John eased the car into the spot, and Rose waited impatiently as he got out and jogged around to her side.

“Milady,” he teased, opening the door for her and extending his hand.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” she laughed, letting him pull her up out of the seat.  She straightened her dress as he shut the door and locked the car, fluffing her hair and resettling her purse.

Turning, he offered her his elbow, and she obliged, threaded her arm through it as they started for the banquet hall.  While they had no plans for any sort of formal announcement, they’d decided to not worry about what anyone would assume about them showing up together to Mickey and Martha’s engagement party.

Well,  _almost_ anyone.

“So…” Rose drawled, as they walked through the doors, “we’re not confirming anything with my parents, right?”

“Definitely not.”  John looked just as relieved as he had when she had first suggested the idea.  “No offense.”

“None taken.  I don’t want them knowing either,” she grinned brightly up at him, his answering smile releasing butterflies in her stomach.  It took effort to tear her gaze away towards the waiting maître d’ when his throat cleared.  “Hi, um, engagement party?  Smith-Jones?”

“Down the hall on the right, can’t miss it,” the man assured her.  “There’s balloons and a sign, and it’s the only party tonight.”

“Thank you.”

They started down the way the maître d’ had pointed, arms dropping only so that their hands could meet, fingers naturally lacing together.  A few people stood scattered down the hallway, clumped together in twos or threes, but none Rose recognized.  Halfway down a whiteboard sign proclaimed  _Smith-Jones_ , balloons in white, gold, and several shades of blue swaying slightly with the unseen blowing of the air conditioner.

Stopping a few feet back from the door, John moved in front of her to meet her eye.  “Ready for this?”

She opened her mouth to respond, entirely unsure of what would actually come out, when a small voice shouted “Rosie!”

Not a second later a small torpedo crashed into the back of her legs, sending her flying forward straight into John’s chest.

“Hi, Tony,” she replied, as John pushed her back upright.  Under normal circumstances she could manage to stay standing when he crashed into her, but under normal circumstances she wasn’t wearing four-inch stilettos – and was usually braced for him.  “How’s it going?”  Turning carefully as he was still wrapped around her knees, she was grateful for John’s steadying hand on the small of her back as she faced her parents.  “Hi Mum, hi Dad.”

“Rose.  You look lovely.”  Pete leaned forward, kissing her cheek, though his eyes never left John.

Her mother, as usual, was far less subtle.  “Who’s he?”  Jackie Tyler’s narrowed gaze was deadly and infamous; she’d once brought a popular Prime Minister almost to tears at a party when he criticized Pete.  Rose wouldn’t say that was why he’d lost the next election, but she wouldn’t swear it wasn’t, either.  It was not a Look to be taken lightly.

John didn’t stand a chance, and yet he seemed entirely unmoved as he cheerily replied, “John Noble, friend of the bride.”

“We’re walking together in the wedding,” Rose added, fighting back a blush when both her parents raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”  Jackie’s tone belied her questioning gaze.  “And what do you do, John?”

“I’m a doctor by training, but I mostly teach.  It’s how I met Martha.”

Before her mother could interrogate him any further, Mickey appeared.  “Tylers!  Was wondering when you lot were going to show up.”

“Here we are,” Rose chirped, giving him an extra squeeze as they hugged in thanks for his good timing.  “Ready to celebrate you!”

“Thanks, babe.”  Mickey pressed his lips to her cheek, before crouching down to Tony’s level.  “Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Look, I’m wearing a suit!”

Her brother took center stage, preening at the fawning attention he was getting, and giving Rose and John time to back away slowly and slip through the doors into the room itself.

It was, in a word, gorgeous.  The color scheme was beachy tones, shades from robin’s egg blue to turquoise and all in between, with white and tan accents, all done in such a way as to be elegant and soothing, giving one the sense of the sea without any overt ocean-themed decorations.  A dozen round tables were arranged on one side of the room, leaving a wide-open space for a dance floor.

Mickey had confided that the reception would be a very casual affair, and the couple had decided that the engagement dinner would serve as the formal, served dinner instead.

“Name cards,” John pointed out, nudging Rose out of her reverie.

“Oh!”

They quickly located their table, front and center by the dance floor.  A DJ was tucked away in the corner, playing soft, jazzy music for now, though she was certain that wouldn’t last long.  The rest of the wedding party was already present, leaving them two unclaimed seats at the far end of the table from the dance floor, but Rose couldn’t have cared less.  Each seat had a glass of champagne, and she had to hold herself back from it.

“This is nice,” John commented idly, glancing around, and Rose nodded approvingly.

“Seems like a good idea- I’ve helped Mum plan enough dinners to know how complicated it can be.  Better to do it now before they get overwhelmed, then all they have to worry about is the wedding itself,” she agreed, distracted by the centerpiece.  Instead of flowers, it was a pillar candle in a holder made of crystals, causing the light from the flame to dance and refract – the overall effect was stunning.

“That’s exactly our plan.”  Martha settled into the seat next to Rose for a moment, smiling at both of them.  “Thanks for coming!”

“How could we miss it?” Rose laughed, giving the bride-to-be a hug.

Martha smiled back, brushing a stray hair out of her face.  “You say that, and yet this one-” she pointed to John, “-has a habit of promising his presence, then at the last minute texting ‘sorry I’m out of the country helping with fill-in-the-blank natural disaster, let’s catch up later!’.  Infuriating.”  Despite her words she was still beaming, happiness radiating off of her.

“I believe it.”  It briefly crossed Rose’s mind that maybe that was where he had disappeared to all those years ago, but she pushed the thought aside to focus on the present.  “Everything looks wonderful, Martha, really, yourself included.  That’s a beautiful dress.”

“Thank you.  Hey, speaking of which, I know this is short notice but are you doing anything tomorrow?  It’s just I got a last-minute appointment with a bridal boutique in town, and I’d really like it if you’d come with.”

Rose’s eyes widened, and she gaped at the bride for a moment.  “I- I- I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“No, no, not at all!”  Martha grabbed her hand, squeezing it.  “Quite the opposite – I could use some sanity.  If you don’t, it’s just me, Mum, Tish, and Shonara.  Please.”

“If you’re sure.”  Rose bit her lip, breaking into a smile when the other woman nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely!  I promise.  Please say you’ll come?”

John nudged her in the side, and she nodded back.  “Then yes, of course.  I’d be honored.”

“Perfect!”  Someone called her name from across the room, Martha climbed to her feet with a groan.  “I should’ve worn flats.  Anyway, I’ll text you the details okay?”

“Great.”  Rose watched her go, and when she finally turned back to John he had a soft look in his eye as he stared at her.  “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, eyes flickering over her face.

Rose blushed, unprepared for the sheer adoration in his gaze.  “Thank you.  You clean up very nice, by the way.”

“You should see me in a tux.”

Glancing around to make sure her parents weren’t within hearing distance, she leaned closer and dropped her voice low.  “I can’t wait.  Can’t wait to see you out of it, either.”

A pleased grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward as well, so close their noses almost brushed.  “As nice as that dress is, I think it would look better on my bedroom floor.”

“We’ll have to find out.”  Rose waited a beat, just long enough to get his hopes up, before adding, “After the wedding.”

“Fair enough.”  The spark in eye slightly dimmed, but he didn’t lose his smile.  “I think by then we’ll need to clear our schedules for a weekend, I’ve got so many plans.”

“Oh, a week minimum,” she teased, deliberately licking her lips and drawing his eye.  “And that’s just my top priority list of things I want to do to you.  And with you.  And have you do to me.”

John hummed in agreement.  “We should go away somewhere, and leave our mobiles behind.”

“All right.”  Rose didn’t know if he was serious or not, but she most certainly was.  Her blood burned for this man, and she’d spent many a night lying awake, lonely and frustrated, cursing her heart’s need to wait, to be sure.  When they finally gave in, it would be explosive – of that she was certain.

“Erm, excuse me?”  Feedback screeched, and everyone turned to the microphone stand situated next to the DJ table.  Jake was turning the stem of a champagne glass through his fingers, looking decidedly nervous, and Rose knew he hated public speaking more than anything.  “Hi.  For those of you who don’t know, I’m Jake, I’m the best man and Mickey’s best mate.  We’ve known each other since we were three, and I’m so happy he’s found such a wonderful partner as Martha to spend his life with.  Everyone knows when a man gets married he never sees his friends again, so thank you, Martha, for getting him out of our hair.  You were our last hope.”

The crowd laughed, and Jake’s shoulders visibly unhunched.

“Anyway, tonight’s not the night for speeches, I was just asked- well, let’s be honest, told- to get up here and thank you all for coming to celebrate this wonderful couple.  To Martha and Mickey!”

“To Martha and Mickey!”  Everyone raised their champagne glass, toasting the couple, before conversations and happy chatter once again broke out.

“To Martha and Mickey,” Rose repeated, smiling, clinking her glass against John’s.

“Without them, we wouldn’t be here,” he agreed, looking rather serious.  “And that- that is… something I can’t even imagine, at this point.”

She blushed, ducking her head before looking up at him through her eyelashes.  “Me either.”

* * *

“ _So tell me what you want, what you really really want_ ,” Rose and Martha screamed along to the song together, holding hands and jumping to the music.  Rose felt thirteen again.  She couldn’t even begin to count the number of times she and her friends had blared this record, dancing and singing along until they knew it by heart.

They were well into the party portion of the evening, the lights dimmed to contribute to the atmosphere.  Most of the older adults had long since left, leaving just friends and cousins to celebrate together.  The DJ played song after song intended to have them up and dancing, and the women did not disappoint.  Time had taken on a dreamlike quality to it, the outside world fading to vague memories as they danced and sang along.  But for the occasional trip back to the table for another drink, it felt like Rose had been on the dance floor for hours.

Martha shrieked, then, and Rose turned to see Mickey spinning his fiancée away into his arms.  Having lost her dance partner and desperately in need of a break, Rose wriggled her way out of the press of bodies to pad over to where John sat alone at their table.

“Hey,” she said, grimacing at rasp in her voice.  “You sure you’re okay just sitting here?”

Looking up from his slice of cake, John pulled her chair out and pressed a glass of wine into her hand.  “I’m fine – working my way through the cake.  You having a good time?”

“Brilliant,” Rose enthused, draining the glass.  “But I can always Uber home if you don’t want to stay.”

“Here,” he said instead, offering her a forkful of cake.  “Have a bite.”

Her lips closed around the fork, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped as he slowly pulled the fork free.  It was chocolate cake with a chocolate hazelnut frosting, and absolutely divine.  Once she’d swallowed and met his eye again, she found his pupils blown wide, a hungry look on his face.

“Good?” he husked out, and she nodded slowly.  “Another?”

Rose let him feed her several more bites, and on the third, she took the stem of the fork from him and pulled the utensil free from tight lips on her own, slowly, while holding his gaze.

John swallowed harshly, eyes flickering between her mouth, eyes, and cleavage, and she threw caution to the wind.

“John?”

“Yes, darling?”  His hand settled on her knee, the palm cool compared to how hot and sweaty she was from dancing, before sliding up to just under the hem of her skirt.  His thumb brushed against the sensitive skin of the inside of her thigh, and she’d never wanted a man more.

“Take me home.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“Take me home_.”

The movies lied.  In a rom-com, such a declaration would immediately cut to the couple getting hot and heavy, barely making it somewhere private before ripping each other’s clothes off.

This wasn’t a movie.  They still had to gather up their things, Rose complaining as she put her stilettos back on, and make a stop at the toilets before reaching the car.

Instead of passionately snogging each other until they were rudely interrupted by an amused copper like in the movies Donna adored, they merely buckled in and left.  John drove one-handed, the other resting on the seat divider, palm snug to Rose’s.  She was curled up on her side facing him, and every time he glanced her way she was already watching him, a soft, happy smile on her face that brought an echoing one to his.

The ride was silent, heavy with anticipation and excitement, and John had to repeatedly force himself not to speed.

Reluctantly stopping for a red light at a tiny intersection, and only half-seriously considering going through it, John looked at her when she let out a soft giggle.  “What?”

“We’re not going to die if it takes an extra five minutes to get back to mine, but we  _will_  if you don’t drive better,” she teased, leaning forward to press her lips to his bicep; even through three layers the touch burned his arm, making his mouth dry with desire.

“You don’t know that.”  He didn’t know which part he was refuting, and he didn’t care.  Rose was looking at him with want, the same desire burning through him, and he felt on top of the world.  He would say anything to make her laugh, make her smile.  She had spent too much time crying over him; he never wanted her to again.

“Pretty sure I do,” she sniggered.  “Light’s green.”

John floored it, the car jumping ahead as she laughed loudly.  Deciding it would be in his best interest to ignore her until they arrived, lest he give in to the desire to park in the next semi-legal parking space he came across and pull her onto his lap, he brought their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before lowering them to rest on his chest over his heart.

She didn’t make a peep for the last ten minutes of the ride, and he expertly parked at the curb with one hand.

“Impressive, eh?” he said smugly, turning the car off before shifting to face her, hopes dashed when he found her sound asleep.  After a moment he pushed his disappointment aside, bringing his free hand up to brush a stray hair away from her mouth before rubbing his thumb against her cheek.  She was adorable.  “Rose,” he called softly, heart melting when she let out a snuffle and leaned closer without waking.  “Sweetheart, we’re home.”

She whined, brow furrowing, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her brow, moving lower to brush against her nose and cheek.  It amazed him, that she was here next to him, part of his life again. He didn’t deserve this second chance, but he would be damned if he squandered it.

“Rose.”

“G’way,” she mumbled, and he gave up.  Picking her purse off the floor he carefully dug out her keys, ignoring the lip gloss, tissues, gum, mobile, and cash, only giving the sealed condom a moment of mourning before snapping the bag shut again and tucking it in his jacket pocket.

Getting out of the car, he took a moment to stretch before going around to Rose’s side.  Her block of flats faced onto a quiet, residential street, and no one was about at the late hour.  Carefully opening her door and getting her unbuckled, he tried one last time to rouse her with little success before scooping her up into his arms.  Kicking the door shut and using the remote to lock the car, he made his way to the front doors.

A doorman held the door for him, though he paid him little attention as he focused on getting Rose inside without a concussion.  “Thanks.”

“What in the stars is this?”

It took a moment for the familiar voice to process, and John almost dropped Rose when he looked up and realized the helpful doorman was none other than his own grandfather.  “What’re  _you_  doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Wilf replied cheerily, “and with my girl to boot.”

“Your girl?”  John vaguely recalled her having mentioned adoring her doorman like he was her grandfather, and shook his head at the coincidence.  He’d known his grandfather worked as a doorman in a posh block of flats, mostly to get away from John’s mother’s nagging, but he’d never considered  _Rose_  could be one of his tenants.  “Of course she is.”

“Martha and her bloke’s rehearsal dinner, eh?  Mickey, I suppose,” his grandfather chattered, standing there blithely as John adjusted his grip on Rose’s dead weight.  “I didn’t know you knew Rose.”

“I didn’t know  _you_  did,” John shot back.  “But, and I’d only ever say this when she couldn’t hear me, she’s not exactly a feather.  D’you mind?”  He nodded his head towards the lift call buttons.

“Right, right, course,” Wilf obliged, hitting the  _up_ button.  “Now, normally I don’t let strangers in to carry unconscious people up to their flats, but for you I suppose I can make an exception.”

“Thanks,” John rolled his eyes, relieved when the lift dinged, doors opening.

“D’you need help?”

Stepping in the lift, he shook his head and adjusted his grip again.  “No- just, could you hit the button?  I don’t know what floor she’s on.”

Wilf leaned in, pressing the button marked  _PH_  before stepping back.  “We’ll be talking about this, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, calling as the doors shut, “And don’t you  _dare_ call Donna!”

His voice must have been louder than intended, because Rose shifted a bit in his arms, blinking sleepily.  “Wha’?”

“We’re at your place,” her murmured, “can you stay awake long enough to get inside?”

“We might have to skip foreplay,” she sighed in reply, knees buckling for a moment when he set her on her feet.

They arrived then, and he guided her out into the vestibule.  It was a fairly small space, with a door on either side, a painting of the Jurassic Cliffs and a plant on the opposite wall from the lift.

“Which one?”

Rose gestured vaguely towards the left, and still keeping her pressed against him for support, he managed to get the right key on the first try.  The door swung open, and they shuffled through it together.  Once it was locked behind them he set the keys on the small table by the door before scooping her up once again.

“Bedroom?”

“We could do it on the couch,” she muttered, burying her face in his chest, and John snorted.

“Maybe another night.”

“End of the hall, then.”

He moved carefully through the dark flat.  Floor-to-ceiling windows to the left let in the moonlight, enough to see vague shapes.  It was a large space, sparsely decorated, ending at a long hallway. They passed two doors on either side before coming to the end, where double doors waited.  Opening both, he carried her inside.

“Light?”

“Left.”

He shifted that way and she reached out, moving the slider on the dimmer halfway up.  It was still fairly dark, but he could see enough that he wouldn’t trip and kill them both.

To the left stood a raised king-size bed, headboard against the same wall as the door so as to offer a view out the window.  Once again floor-to-ceiling windows covered the far wall, a breathtaking view hidden behind venetian blinds.  A small sitting area was tucked in the far corner, with a floor lamp and cozy armchair arranged next to a tiny bookshelf.

On the right side of the entryway the wall only extended a few feet before turning, a large dresser nestled between two closed doors.

John led her towards the foot of the bed, where a plush bench waited.  Rose dropped onto it, leaning against the foot of the mattress as she arched her back.  Darting his gaze away from the spectacular view of her chest, he knelt instead in front of her to undo the ankle strap keeping her heels on, discarding them off to the side out of the way.

“You should get ready for bed,” he said gently, shaking Rose’s knee.  “Wake up, babe, just long enough to change.”

“But we were gonna shag,” she whined, struggling to sit up.

He shook his head, standing.  “Not tonight. I don’t want you falling asleep on me.  C’mon.  D’you need help?”

“Please?”

“Just tell me what.”  He bent down to kiss the top of her head, breathing in her strawberry shampoo.

“Dresser, top drawer.  Should be a nightgown,” Rose yawned, waving towards the far wall.  He went dutifully, easing the indicated drawer open to find sleepsets for various seasons, ranging from skimpy nighties to flannel pajamas.  After a moment of hesitation he pulled out one of the silk nighties, bringing it back to her.

“This okay?”

She was on her feet now, bent over as she lowered pantyhose and a tiny scrap of lace.  He swallowed hard at the sight of them, almost missing when she spoke because he was so distracted by his imagination running rampant.

“Yeah, thanks.  Can you get my zip?”

She turned her back to him, and after a moment he got the hint, stepping up close to her.  Unable to help himself he pressed his hips to her bum, pleased when she rocked back against him.  Sweeping her hair out of the way and pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, he undid the hidden hook and slowly lowered the zipper.  It stopped just above her bum, exposing creamy flesh to his view, and he rubbed his knuckles along her spine as he sucked at her neck.  “Done.”

Rose rolled her shoulders, letting the dress drop to the ground, and that easily she was naked in front of him, throwing a coy but sleepy smile over her shoulder.  “Like what you see?”

He pulled her back against him, her hips and back pressed against her front, lips against her shoulder.  “Very much.”  A regretful hum.  “I ought to be going.”

“What?  Why?”

“You should sleep.”

Rose sighed, stepping away and slipping the nightgown over her head before smoothing it over her hips.  “Fair enough, but please stay.”

“I…”  His palms itched to hold her again, to settle on her hips and pull her back against him, but he couldn’t quite trust himself to stop there and so didn’t start at all.  “Is that a good idea?”

“Please?”  She pouted up at him.  “We can just sleep, really, but… I want to sleep in your arms.”

Trust shone in her eyes, no hint of doubt or concern, and swallowing harshly, he agreed before he could think better of it.  “Okay.”

Her face lit, and she darted forward to kiss his cheek, chest pressing against his.  “Loo’s the door on the right, there should be a tee big enough for you in the same drawer if you’re not comfortable in just your pants.”

Then she turned, climbing onto the bed on her hands and knees from the bench, and he dearly wished the nightgown was another inch or two shorter.

How the fuck was he going to survive this night?

* * *

Rose drifted awake after the best night of sleep she’d had in years, yawning as she snuggled down into her pillow.

Her moving pillow.

Eyes snapping open, she looked up into the twinkling blue eyes of John.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said softly, and she realized his hand was rubbing up and down her spine over her nightgown.  “Sleep well?”

“Perfect,” she smiled back, memories of the previous evening slowly seeping back.  “Thanks for staying.”

“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he rumbled.  “Best night I’ve had in forever.”

“And we didn’t even shag.”

In a flash he rolled her onto her back, settling their bodies together.  She was surrounded by him, every inch of her pressed against him, and she melted back into the mattress as her thighs cradled his hips.

His head slowly lowered to hers, teasing, lips brushing against every part of her face but her lips until she was squirming below him.

Desire made her limbs heavy, languid as they wrapped around him and pulled him tighter against her.  He was hot and hard against her hip, and she let out a moan when he finally deigned to kiss her.

He hitched her leg higher, kissing her deeper, and she was just reaching for his pants when her phone began to beep.

“Ignore it,” he ordered, mouth moving to her jawline, and she obeyed, until the second time, when she realized it was actually an alarm.

“Hang on,” she mumbled, shoving ineffectually at his shoulders.

John ignored her, kissing his way down her neck, and she was so tempted to just dismiss it before it chimed a third time.

“Seriously, John.”

After a moment he reluctantly rolled off her, spreading across the mattress with a groan while she reached for her purse.  She didn’t remember bringing it into the bedroom, but assumed John must have gotten it in the middle of the night.  Fumbling the mobile out of the purse and setting the condom on the nightstand within easy reach, Rose groaned in disappointment as she read her texts and checked the time.  “Shit.”

“What?”

Rose rolled back to cuddle into his chest, kissing it before laying her head over his heart.

“I promised Martha I’d go to her dress shopping appointment today,” she said apologetically, “and it’s in forty-five minutes.  It’ll take me half that to get there.”

“Skip it,” he suggested hopefully, hand settling on the back of her thigh before sliding up, and she shook her head regretfully.

“I want to-  _believe_  me, I want to- but I promised her.”  The hand stopped on her bumcheek.  “Plus, we agreed to wait, remember?”

The  _why_  of that agreement escaped Rose at the moment, certain it had been made in a moment of insanity, but John reluctantly let go of her and nudged her away so he could sit up.

“Yeah,” he sighed.  “I know.  And for good reason.”  Despite his amiable words, the heat in his gaze as he studied her suggested he’d rather toss that out the window as well.

“Damn our insistence at doing this right.”

“Oh, baby, I’ll do you right,” he promised darkly, before snorting.  “Wow, that was cheesy.  Right, do you want some breakfast before you go?”

Her stomach rumbled on cue, but she bit her lip in hesitation as she sat up as well, watching as he got out of bed and stretched.  “Doesn’t seem fair?”

“How so?”

Rose climbed down as well, heading for her loo.  “Well, I bring you home with the promise of sex, basically pass out on you, then this morning I’ve got to run off.”

John shrugged, going to her dresser where his clothes sat folded on top and began to dress.  “That’s a relationship,” he said simply.  “It’s not quid pro quo.  I’d be happy to make you breakfast because I lo- care about you.  Any sex we were or weren’t going to have has nothing to do with it.  Plus, I could hear your cat yowling from the bloody moon.”

“In that case, yes please.”  Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him languidly.  “Now, get out of my bedroom before I drag you in the shower.”

“As threats go, that’s not particularly effective,” he mumbled against her lips before pulling away.  “And I suggest if you really want to make that appointment, you lock the door.”

* * *

Martha kept one eye on the clock as she waited impatiently.  The boutique was running behind schedule, which was fine because Rose wasn’t there yet anyway.  Checking her mobile for the dozenth time, she resisted the urge to text her.  Sure, last night at the party Rose had been enthusiastic about joining, but maybe she was just being polite?  Or worse, something had happened with John - she’d seen them sneaking out together, hand in hand.

“Martha?”  The saleswoman appeared just as Rose burst through the boutique door, looking around wildly.

“Yes,” Martha, directed at the woman, before waving with relief.  “Rose!  Over here.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Rose blurted, hurrying over to them and settling down next to Tish.  “I got stuck behind an accident about half a mile from here, then parking was a nightmare.  Did you get my text?”

Martha shook her head, and Rose groaned.  “Shit. My mobile died just as I sent it, I’d hoped it had gone through but… today’s just not my lucky day.”

“That hickey on your neck says otherwise,” Tish joked, and Rose’s hand flew to her neck, eyes widening.

“Oh, please tell me you’re kidding.”

The attendant cleared her throat, drawing their attention, and if possible, Rose went pinker.  “Sorry!”

“It’s okay, we were just starting,” Martha smiled brightly, even as she plotted how to get the full story from the woman.  “I’m Martha.”

“Martha, I’m Peggy, I’ll be helping you today.  Why don’t you tell me a little about your wedding?”

* * *

They were soon given free reign to wander the sample dresses, and Martha ‘just so happened’ to end up near Rose, looking through the same rack.

“I really am sorry,” her new friend muttered, still blushing.

“It’s okay,” Martha promised, adding as casually as she could, “I didn’t want to get out of bed either.”

Rose made an odd choking noise, and Martha hid her smile with a turn of her head as she pretended to study the beading on a dress.  “I wasn’t- we weren’t- I mean-”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, elbowing the blonde with a wink.  “I think you and John make a great couple, actually.”

The other woman’s mouth opened and closed several times before finally muttering, “Thanks.”

They spent the next minute flipping in silence, before Martha asked, “So, tell the truth – how is he in bed?  When we were students, my friends and I always wondered.  Something about him just screams ‘dynamite’.”

Rose went stock still, and Martha almost checked to make sure she was still breathing.  “Um…”

Martha let her alone, still searching for the perfect dress and pulling out the occasional potential as she waited her out.

“We… haven’t,” her friend eventually muttered.

“What?”

“John and I, we haven’t… yet.  This morning- well, almost- but… no.”

“Really?”  Turning away from a dress, Martha directed her full attention on the blushing woman.  “Not ever?”

Rose dropped her eye, and Martha almost quivered with delight.  She  _knew_ it!  Since that dinner where they’d supposedly been introduced, Martha had suspected the two of a previous relationship but hadn’t been able to confirm it.  She, Jack, and Jackie had plotted a set-up, but a miscommunication meant no one was on hand to observe (her word; Mickey’s was ‘spy on’) their interaction, and all were still fully in the dark.  But maybe not for long.

Shifting her stance, Rose bit her lip and glanced around the shop.  “Today’s about you-”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Martha rushed to reassure her, certain if she didn’t spill now she never would.  “Please, I care about you both.”

Something about her earnest expression made Rose nod.  “We were together for about a week and a half five years ago before it ended abruptly.  We hadn’t seen each other since until that dinner with all of us.”

Martha tried her best to control her expression, and keep her tone casual as she replied, “I’d kind of gotten that vibe, but didn’t want to pry.”

Rose rolled her eyes, turning back to the options.  “Well, I should thank you, really, because you put us back in each other’s orbit.  We’re taking it slow this time, but…”

“Slow progress is still progress,” Martha offered, flipping through dresses again, mostly watching Rose as she considered one.

“Yep.  But where  _fast_  progress needs to be made is here.  What do you think of this dress?”

“Oooh!”


	11. Chapter 11

Rose held two different earrings up to her ears, trying to concentrate on her reflection and which pair better suited her outfit.  Her focus, however, was on her closed bathroom door, and who was behind it.  John was singing Beatles tunes in the shower, Tardis yowling along in harmony.  Every so often the singing would be replaced by a low murmur, the cat meowing almost in reply, sending bursts of warmth and love through her chest for man and animal alike.

The water shutting off startled her back to reality, and picking the gold hoops, she put them in and the other pair away before hustling towards her kitchen.

Most of the food was already packed, but she fussed over the bags as she waited for her boyfriend to be ready.

Her  _boyfriend_.  Even after an entire (uneventful) summer, the words still sent a shiver of delight and awe down her spine.  After the engagement party they’d settled into a routine, growing closer and their relationship stronger.  Rose had never felt more comfortable with a bloke, more adored; especially not with a man she  _wasn’t_  shagging.

So far they had been very good about ‘resisting temptation’, thought not so good about not putting themselves into tempting situations.  Weekend nights were usually spent together, with nothing more physical than some brilliant snogging and even better groping sessions.  At this point, it was almost a game of chicken to see who would break first.  She was determined for it not to be her.

“Ready?”  John walked into the kitchen still tugging on his shirt, Rose’s belly swooping as the fabric settled over his toned abs.

“Mhmm.”

“For the cookout?”  He was smirking, eyes scanning her body appreciatively, pausing on her bust before fixing on her eyes.

Rose smoothed the skirt of her sundress.  “That too.”  For being the start of September it was still sweltering, and the dress she’d chosen walked a fine line between being modest enough for a family get together and as little as fabric as possible to beat the heat.  Any maybe torture her boyfriend a little.

John snorted, coming to stand in front of her and settling his hands on her hips, pulling her closer.  “Thirteen weeks.”

“Sometimes I don’t think I can last another thirteen minutes.   _Especially_  when you’re in my shower.”

“We made it this far.”  He buried his nose in her hair, breathing her in, and he relaxed against her.  “Dunno how.  But if we made it through the summer, we can make it all the way.”

“All the way,” Rose sighed, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest.  “Stop teasing.”

They swayed together, only breaking apart when Rose’s phone beeped.  “We’ve got to go or we’ll be late.”

“Definitely don’t want that,” John agreed, checking the bags.  “D’you think he’ll be there already?”

“Donna’s new boyfriend?  Probably.”  Settling her purse over her shoulder, Rose grabbed one of the bags, leaving the other two for John before making her way towards the door.  “Come on.”

“What do we even know about this guy?”  He followed her out, calling the lift as she locked the door.   “It just seems too early.”

Rose shook her head, not looking at him.  “We know his name’s Shawn, and that Donna  _really_  likes him.  No matter how many times you ask me, I’m not going to know anything more.  Just relax.”

The lift arrived, but didn’t deliver the relief she was hoping for from the conversation.

“I’m just saying, after Lance-”

“No!” Rose cut in, turning to glare at him.  “Don’t you  _dare_  bring him up today.  Give the bloke the benefit of the doubt.  It can’t be easy meeting your new girlfriend’s family.”

“It’s technically your first time too,” he pointed out as they stepped out into the lobby.  “At least, as a ‘meet the family’ sort of thing.”

“Yeah, but that’s just your mum.  I know your grandad and sister already.  And you’ve met mine.”

“It’s almost like we’re a real couple,” John teased.

“And not to stick my nose where it don’t belong, but you better stay that way,” Wilf interjected, walking up to them with his uniform jacket slung over his shoulder.  “Cause if not, don’t think for a second Donna and me aren’t keeping Rose.  You can have your mother, and good riddance.  Now I’ve been sprung, so don’t just stand around on my account.”

“I hope the eagerness is to see Donna, and not to interrogate her new boyfriend,” Rose said, smirking at Wilf’s comments and John’s offended glare.

Wilf bristled as they started for the tenant parking.  “After Lance-”

“Oh, not you too,” Rose cut him off in exasperation.  “Look, you need to have some faith in Donna.  He’s a perfectly nice bloke-”

“Hang on, have you met him?”  John stopped dead, staring at her in disbelief.

“What?”

“You said ‘he’s a perfectly nice bloke’.  Not you  _think_ , or  _imagine_ , but as though you know for a fact.”

Rose kept walking to her car.  “I’ve just heard enough about him to feel like I do,” she said stiffly, popping the boot.  “Bags in.”

The two men gave her suspicious glares, but she didn’t blink.  Loading her own bag of food in, she merely moved to the driver’s seat and settled behind the wheel.  “We’re late.”

Still grumbling they piled in, Rose steadfastly ignoring John’s highly suspicious looks as she drove towards Donna’s.  In the backseat Wilf chattered about his shift, providing colorful commentary about the other owners in Rose’s building.

By the time they arrived John’s shoulders had unhunched, and he was laughing along to a story about the woman across the hall from Rose when they pulled up to Donna’s.  It was a semi-detached, hers being on the right, with a few balloons tied to the door handle.

“Well, here we are.  Wilf, why don’t you go in and get settled, we’ll bring the things in.”

“I can help,” the older man protested, but John shook his head in agreement.

“No, we’ll get it.  You be good cop, I’ll be bad cop.”

“John!”

Wilf snorted, climbing out of the car.  “This’ll be an interesting little get together, between you protecting Shawn from us, and us keeping Sylvia away from you.”

“Oh joy,” Rose muttered, though not quietly enough given John’s snort.  “We’ll be right behind you!”

“Don’t sit out here snogging for too long,” Wilf advised, whistling as he slammed the door and danced up the walk.

“I love him,” Rose said fondly, turning her head to smile at John.

“I think the feeling’s mutual.”  The affection in his eye suggested Wilf wasn’t the only passenger to love her, but they hadn’t gotten to the point of saying it just yet, so it sat comfortably between them for a moment.  “I really do apologize for anything my mother says.  Please don’t hold her against us – you know the rest of my family, you’ll know she’s an outlier.”

“You’re scaring me,” Rose scolded, though she’d listened to enough of Donna’s stories over the past three years to be rightfully on guard.  “Stop it. Grab the bags, will you?”

Rose took the one with refrigerated items, leaving the other two for him, and they headed up the walk hand in hand.  The storm door was closed but unlocked, the main door open behind it, and John didn’t hesitate to push right in.  “Donna!”

“Kitchen,” she shouted back, and they followed the sounds of activity through the house.  The front door opened onto a hallway, steps leading upstairs while a sitting room was off to the left.  Following the hall, they found the kitchen occupied the back half with a dining room jutting back towards the sitting room.

The kitchen was where the party was, bowls full of crisps, pretzels, and popcorn waiting on an island.  Donna was at the counter taking biscuits off a tray, a middle-aged blonde woman nagging her as Wilf resettled bottles of wine in ice.

Donna looked up as they walked in, features sagging in relief at the sight of them.  “Oh, you made it!  Brilliant! Can I put you to work?”

“Of course!  What do you need?”

The harried hostess cast her a grateful smile.  “John, you get what you brought settled and a glass of wine for Rose.  Rose, we’re doing chicken kebabs on the grill- all the ingredients are in the fridge.  Would you mind putting them together on the skewers?”

“Now hang on,” the other woman complained.  “We haven’t even met yet, and you’re putting her to work?”

“Sylvia, it’s so lovely to meet you,” Rose said warmly, putting on her best ‘heiress’ smile as she moved closer, extending her hand.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” the woman scowled, crossing her arms.  “My daughter, my son, my  _father_.  They all think the world of you.”

“And I of them.”  Rose didn’t let Sylvia’s frostiness change her attitude, her hand falling to her side.  “You’re very lucky to have so many lovely people.”

“Don’t you think you’re a little young for John?”

John, Wilf, and Donna groaned in unison.

“Mum-”

Rose’s smile never faltered.  “I think it depends on the couple.  It works for us, and we’re very happy.”

“I’m sure.”  Sylvia looked to have more to say on the subject, but a deliberate throat-clearing from her own father silenced her.

“Top shelf,” Donna said firmly, shooting her an apologetic look behind her mother’s back.

“Thanks.”

Rose opened the fridge door, taking the chance to roll her eyes as she took out the pre-cut chunks of raw chicken, onion, and pepper.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

Shawn arrived an hour later after getting off work, inadvertently giving Rose away with a warm greeting and ‘good to see you again!’.  She escaped as soon as she could, hiding in the kitchen and busying herself with dishes.

“So you have met him,” John accused, following her in a minute later.

Rose groaned quietly, glancing at him over her shoulder as she continued to fill the dishpan with soapy water.  “He picked her up at the office last week for lunch.  I spent all of thirty seconds in his presence.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”  He settled near her, his back to the counter as he watched her start washing dishes.  Most of the censure had left his voice, but enough remained to earn him a raised eyebrow.

“We’ve talked about this.  What happens between work Rose and Donna stays between work Rose and Donna, and the same about our home lives.  I met him as her boss, not her… brother’s girlfriend.”  Technically Donna had introduced her as her future sister-in-law, but Rose saw no need to give John a heart attack.   _Though, it_ would _probably distract him from Shawn…_

“You could have  _said_  that,” he grumbled.

“It was Wednesday, I already knew we’d be meeting him officially today.  Come on, don’t make this a thing.”

John made a face but said nothing else, silently taking a fresh towel and setting to work on drying.  By the time they had most of the dishes done he’d gotten over his snit, occasionally bumping her hip with his as they worked and laughed.

A throat cleared behind them, and they found Sylvia standing at the island, scowling.  “Can I have a word with Rose?”

John looked at Rose who nodded, and after a moment he slowly moved towards the door.  “I’ll be right outside,” he said, a promise to Rose and a threat to his mother, before disappearing through the sliding door.

“Hello,” Rose said politely, rinsing and drying her hands to give the other woman her full attention.  “Did you need something?”

“I’m sure you’re a lovely girl,” she started, not sounding genuine in the least, “and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”  Rose just barely managed to refrain from snorting, keeping her expression even.  “But John… he’s not the relationship type.  If you’re looking for a future, you’re wasting your time with him.”

The faux sympathy and care from her made Rose’s spine stiffen, but she didn’t let her feelings show.  “We’re very happy,” she repeated, “and on the same page with our relationship.”

“Darling I’m sure you are, but, well, you can’t spend the rest of your life on your back, can you?  Eventually he’ll want a real connection outside of the bedroom, and wouldn’t it be better to save yourself the heartbreak now?”

Rose blinked, unable to believe what she was hearing.  “ _Excuse_  me?”  She didn’t know whether to be offended or laugh.  “You think we’re together because of  _sex_?”

“You’re half his age, what else could it be?  So he’s having a midlife crisis you’re benefiting from.  He’ll lose interest sooner or later. I just don’t want you to think it’s more than it is.”

The Rose of four months ago would have agreed.  The Rose of four months ago would have fled in tears, her worst fears confirmed.

The Rose of four months ago didn’t exist anymore.

“I know exactly what it is between us, and it has nothing to do with sex.  John and I are very happy, and we plan to be very happy,  _together_ , for a very long time.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m being terribly rude by being in here so long.  I don’t want Donna to get the wrong idea.”

Head held high she swept past the spluttering woman, walking out the door and crashing right into John’s chest.  “Oof!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, steadying her.  “Rose-”

“How much did you hear?”

“A little.”

“A little?”

“Almost none, really.”

“So everything.”

“Rose-”

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt she pulled him down to her, lips meeting in a bruising kiss.  “It’s okay,” she whispered when they parted no more than a breath.  “I’m okay. Let it go.”

His fingers flexed on her waist before relaxing, pulling her closer.  “Are you sure?”

“Very.”

* * *

Rose drove John home at the end of the night, and the ride was comfortably silent after an afternoon of fun and laughter.  Finding a parking space in front of his flat, she turned the car off and settled back into her seat, sighing.

“I’m sorry about my Mum,” he said quietly, staring out the windshield.

Rolling her head to face him, she smiled.  “It’s okay.  Really.  I’ve heard enough stories from you and Donna and Wilf over the years that I shouldn’t have been surprised.  I’m not holding it against you.  And quite honestly, I’m perfectly happy to have the less abrasive mum in this relationship!”

He turned to face her, looking serious.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.  I… I have no doubts about us,” she admitted shyly.  “I haven’t for a while.”

“Neither do I.”  He glanced away for a moment.  “Rose, I…”

She placed a finger across his lips, silencing him.  “I know.  And, I do too.  But things are good, and… I still want to wait.  I like how things are right now, and as much as I’m looking forward to our future… I want to savor these moments as well.  Is that okay?”

John leaned forward, kissing her softly.  “More than.”

They snogged for several minutes before Rose finally remembered what she’d originally wanted to talk about.  “Wait!”

He pulled back panting, leaving his hand buried in her hair.  “What’s wrong?”

Rose wrung her hands nervously in her lap.  “I wanted to ask- well, invite you to something, but… I don’t want to pressure you, and it’s a big deal- not a  _huge_ deal, but not nothing, and I just- well-”

“Rose.”

Taking a deep breath, she focused on his open and expectant face.  “Next month is the annual Vitex Ball.  Every year a different charity in a different field is honored, and it’s a huge fundraising deal.  Obviously I have to go, and I was wondering… well, hoping, that you might be willing to go with me?”

“As your date?”

“Yes.”

“For a charity ball?”  His face was blank, and she had to bite her lip to keep from rambling on about it.

“Yes.”

“What’s the charity?”  It wasn’t a no, and her hopes began to rise.

“First let me say I have no input on the charity, and it’s selected like a year in advance.”

“Rose.”

“Doctors Overseas?”

He blinked at her, mouth dropping slightly as he stared.  “What?”

“Yeah.”

“I work with them,” he said.  “Frequently.  Martha too, sometimes.  Did you-”

“I know you do,” Rose rushed to say, “that’s why I’m inviting you.  I mean, I would have anyway, but- will you think about it?”

“Yes,” John said, a smile slowly growing across his face.

“You’ll think about it?”

“No.  I mean, I’ll go,” he corrected.  “What’s the date?”

“September 20th.  It’s a Saturday night.”

“It’s a date.”  His eyes crinkled as his smile widened, before he paused.  “Erm, how much is the ticket?”

“We buy a table,” Rose dismissed with a wave of her hand.  “Don’t worry about that.  There’s an auction, tombola, and straight up ‘deposit check here’ opportunities as well if you want to contribute personally.”

John hummed skeptically.  “Aren’t plates like fifteen grand?”

“Erm, yeah.  Over the years my parents have worked out good relationships with the vendors, so for as expensive as the event is, it doesn’t actually cost that much, with lots of donations and things.  Almost all the money raised goes towards the charity itself; Vitex pays seventy-five percent of the final bill, with the rest from the event profit.”

“And then gets a free table?”

“Yes, but we use it for the guests of honor.  You know, head of the charity, a few of the staff members.  We buy our own table personally.”

“I would love to go,” he said earnestly, and Rose let out a sigh of relief.  “There shouldn’t be any calendar conflict, and if there is I’ll fix it. I’d be honored.”

“Great!”  A yawn interrupted her smile, and John let out a laugh.  “Well, it’s been a long though wonderful day.  I’ll see you at the lesson tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to dancing with you,” he confirmed, kissing her again.  “Good night, Rose.”

“Good night.”

Rose waited until he was inside to pull away, and that night she fell asleep to visions of dancing in his arms.

* * *

The next afternoon she was walking up the sidewalk to the dance studio when she heard John call her name.

“Rose!”

She turned to see him jogging up behind her, grinning madly.  “Hi!”

They kissed, before heading into the studio arm in arm.

“I thought you’d already be here,” he commented, holding the door for her.

Rose winced, seeing the other three couples already present and waiting, standing around chatting.  “I had brunch with my family, remember?  Tony refused to let me leave, and I got caught in traffic.”

“I got caught up in lesson plans.  Least we’re late together, I suppose.”

“Great, you’re here!” Martha called, spotting them.  “Ready to get started?”

“Sorry we’re late,” Rose apologized, greeting everyone with a hug and kiss.

“Tony?” Mickey guessed, laughing when she nodded.  “Told you, babe.”

Martha just smiled, shaking her head fondly.  “No worries, you’re not actually late.  Set your stuff down and we can start.”

Rose dumped her bag on a chair, shaking her hair loose from its ponytail as she surveyed the space.  Martha and Mickey had booked a private dance lesson for the wedding party, so the studio was empty except for the eight of them and two teachers, a man and a woman.

Hurrying back to John, she rolled her eyes to find him at the back of the group.  “Why are we back here?” she muttered.

“Because.  You look beautiful, by the way.”  He ran a heated gaze of her, and she preened.  She had on a dress similar to the style Martha had picked for the bridesmaids, though this one was crimson, and her favorite heels for formal dancing, to get a better sense of how it would go during the reception itself.

“Thanks.”  Before she could say more, the female instructor began to speak.

“Good afternoon, welcome, I’m Hilary and this is Ryan.  Let’s get started.”

* * *

“God, my feet are killing me,” Rose laughed, clinging to John’s arm as they staggered into his flat.  “Two hours of club dancing after two hours of waltz lessons was  _not_  a good idea.”

“Leo said they’d paid the babysitter for the whole afternoon, it only made sense to make use of her.”  John steered her to the couch, where she sank gratefully into the plush cushions.

“Mhmm, tell me about it.  My parents do that to me  _all_  the time.  I don’t mind, I love Tony, but seriously.”  Rose settled her feet on the coffee table, eyes fluttering closed only to jerk open when her legs moved.  “What-”

“These don’t look very comfortable,” John commented, sitting on the table in front of her and putting her feet in his lap, before undoing the straps.  “How about a foot rub?”

“Oooh, that’d be amazing,” Rose moaned, sinking deeper as his thumbs began to knead the balls of her feet.  “Wow.”

“Doctor,” he bragged.  “I think I know a bit about how bodies work.”

“Mhmm.”  Rose relaxed in silence, enjoying his comforting touch as he massaged her feet and ankles.  As always, his touch set fire to her blood, a low simmer she’d gotten used to ignoring.

Eventually he stopped, and her eyes blinked open to find him watching her with a rapt look.

“Hi.”

“Dance with me,” he said abruptly, standing.

Rose got to her feet as well, wrinkling her nose.  “There’s no music.”

“So?”  He led her to the other side of the table with more space, taking her hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Their bodies fit together perfectly, and Rose lay her head on his chest as they swayed.  Every so often he would lay kisses to her crown, and she sank deeper against him.  His heart was under her ear, the steady beat a familiar comfort.  No place was better than this, being in his arms, nothing had ever felt more right, and those three little words bubbled up inside her until she could no longer contain them.

“John?”

“Yes, darling?” he murmured, holding her tighter.

Rose leaned back enough to see his face, searching his eyes as she tried to find the right words.  “I-  You- John,”

A ringing mobile cut her off, and they both groaned.  “Sorry, that’s me. Hang on.”  He fished his mobile out of his pocket, tucking it in the crook of his neck.  “‘Lo?”

She couldn’t quite hear what the person on the other end was saying, just random snatches of words, but knew it wasn’t good when he stopped moving, body tensing as he shot her an apologetic look.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.  Okay.”

He hung up, tossing the mobile back towards the couch before burying one hand in her hair and using it to tilt her head back as he plundered her mouth.

Rose’s knees went weak, sagging against him, and she was breathless by the time he pulled away.  “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go,” he sighed regretfully.  “That was my contact at Doctors Overseas – there’s been a hurricane in the Caribbean, they need all hands on deck so to speak.”

“Of course you have to go,” she agreed, seeing the relief those words brought him.  “How long will you be gone?”

John grimaced again.  “Hard to say.  Last time I was there almost two months, but it was earlier last summer and I didn’t have any obligations.  I’ll do my best to be back for the Ball.”

“But you don’t want to leave until the work is done.”  He nodded, and she smiled slightly.  “Well, I can’t say I won’t miss you, but I know how important this is to you so I’ll just say be as safe as you can be.”

He kissed her again before pulling away with a groan.  “I have to go pack, there’s a chartered plane leaving in two hours.”

Rose followed him into the bedroom, settling by the headboard to watch, savoring every last second she could get with him.  “Is there anything you need me to do while you’re gone?  Rent, plants, bills, family?”

“Would you mind terribly closing this place up?”  He glanced up from the duffel he was packing.  “Trash, perishables, that sort of thing.  Bills are all on auto-pay, including rent, and I’ll call the school on my way to the airport.”

“Done.”

“And, here.”  He grabbed a gift-wrapped box out of a drawer.  “I was going to give this to you soon, and under much more romantic circumstances, but this will have to do.”

“What is it?”  Rose took the lid off the box to find a keyring with two keys hanging from it.

“Thought maybe you should have your own key,” he said, failing at being casual.  “One’s the building, the one with the bit of blue paint is the front door. Would you mind coming by to water the plants every few days?  Donna’ll kill me if I let them die.”

“Of course.”  Rose clutched the box to her chest.  “Anything else?”

He zipped the bag shut before moving around the bed to where she kneeled.  “Yeah.  Take care of my girl.”

Rose flung herself into his arms as he reached for her, and they kissed as though it would be the last time.

“Come home to me,” she whispered.

“Always.”

With a final, bruising kiss he was gone, the door shutting behind him echoing in the suddenly empty and bereft space.

She already missed him.


	12. Chapter 12

Rose bounced on her toes as she waited impatiently.  After a month apart, the last twenty minutes since John texted her that he was off the plane had been excruciating.  Technically he had texted Donna, thinking it was his sister who was picking him up, but she had forwarded the message to Rose who was eager to surprise him.

Finally he walked out into the waiting area, and she was practically vibrating with excitement as she waited for him to notice her.  He had his mobile pressed to his ear when he spotted her, a wide smile spreading across his face as he lowered the device.  “Rose!”

“Hi!”  They ran to each other, John dropping his duffel so he could catch her in his arms.  “I missed you!”

He kissed her in response, bending her backwards, and she just held him tighter.  Wolf whistles and clapping broke their concentration, and he slowly lowered her back to her feet as they remembered they were in the busy Arrivals section of Heathrow.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ears and searching her eyes.  “You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” she replied breathlessly, damn near giggling with glee.  He looked good, tanner and leaner than when he left, and ridiculously happy to see her.  The feeling was mutual.

“How long do we have before the Ball tonight?”

“Four hours.”

“Mhmm.”  He sampled her lips again, before finally letting go enough to grab his bag off the ground so they could walk towards the car, hand in hand.  “Plenty of things we could do in four hours.”

“I’m going to need most of that time to get ready,” Rose said apologetically, “but I’ve got your tux and things at mine, so you can at least ogle my bum while I put my makeup on.”

“Fair enough.”

* * *

 

Three and a half hours later they slid into the limo, John laughing softly as the driver shut the door.  “Quite the change from my ride to the airport this morning.”

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she sighed, resting her head on his bicep.  “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.  But… I think the time apart was good,” he said hesitantly, and Rose stiffened.

“How so?”  Sitting up straight she turned to face him, not soothed by his nervous expression.  He’d been eager to see her, but had that been a front? Was he biding his time?  Was he going to run again?

John glanced down at his hands, unable to meet her eye, and panic surged through her.  “I realized… looking at the devastation, the people who’ve lost everything, really puts one’s own life into perspective,” he hedged.  “I had a few revelations.”

“About us?”  Fear and anger were clawing at her throat, but she fought them back to concentrate on what he was saying.  Assumptions about the other’s feelings had torpedoed their initial relationship; she wouldn’t let that happen again.

“Yes.”

“And?”

Finally meeting her eye, it took a moment to process the tentative smile on his face.  “I love you, Rose.  I want to spend my life with you.”

The dull roaring in her ears made her freeze, as she stared at him wide eyed.  “What?”  It was so far from what she was expecting, what she was preparing herself for, she could barely wrap her mind around it, her heart pounding.

His smile slipped for a moment, but he soldiered on.  “I’m not proposing or anything, right now or even in the foreseeable future, but… that’s what I want.  That’s the  _future_  I want.”

“With me?” Rose asked, breathless.

He nodded, and she threw her arms around his neck to pull his lips down to hers.  “Me too,” she mumbled, and they didn’t stop until the driver buzzed over the intercom.

“Miss Tyler?”

“Mhmm, yes?”  They broke apart, Rose trying to focus on something other than John’s lips on her neck or how wonderful it felt being in his lap.

“We’ve just about arrived.  Would you like me to drive around the block before letting you off?”

Rose pulled away enough to look them both over.  The neckline of her dress was bunched around her waist, John’s palms still massaging her bare breasts, while his own shirt was half unbuttoned, tie discarded, and lipstick covering the lower half of his face.

“Make it twice.”

* * *

 

By the third time around the block they were perfectly pulled together, and Rose waited until the driver opened the door to casually throw over her shoulder, “By the way, there might be some press.”

She stepped out into starbursts of camera flashes, her best heiress smile on her face as she waited for John to catch up.  He settled one arm across her back, palm flat on her opposite hip, and they walked the red carpet together. They only stopped for pictures twice, ignoring any and all questions shouted their way.

Once through the doors they paused to take in the hall.  Every year they rented the Neptune Court at the National Maritime Museum, and it was incredible to see through John’s eyes as he stopped dead next to her.

Rose always helped to plan and set up the event, and she’d seen it just that morning before picking him up at Heathrow.  After more than ten years of attending it had lost some of the ‘wow’ factor, but watching him take it in let her see it as though for the first time again.

“This is incredible,” he murmured, awed.

Smiling, she stepped closer to bump his shoulder with hers.  “Thanks, we put a lot of work into it.  The galleries are open to us as well.  Come on!”

* * *

 

They took a turn through some of the galleries, mostly focused on catching up on their respective month apart and luxuriating in being in the other’s presence again.  By the time they returned to the main hall the band had started playing, and a few couples were out already out on the dance floor.

“Shall we?” John offered, holding out his hand.

“All right.”

He guided her out to the floor, taking a moment to set up properly before they started to waltz.  “Seemed like a good idea to practice,” he murmured, “considering how long ago that lesson was.”

“Practice makes perfect,” she replied, giving him a teasing smile and letting her tongue peek out between her teeth.  His steps faltered, and she laughed.  “By the way.”

“Hmm?”

“You said something earlier…”

“I said a lot of things.  Bit of a gob, me.”

She pinched his side.  “Something you maybe expected me to repeat?”

He pretended to ponder, spinning her out and then back in tighter than before.  “I don’t like to brag, but yes,  _my_  arse does look pretty good tonight as well.  I forgive you for not saying it, though.”

“John.”

He stopped dancing, and they let the other couples swirl around them as they gazed into each other’s eyes.  “I love you, Rose.”

“I love you too.”

Mindful of their public location they kept the kiss light and sweet, but the joy in his eyes when they pulled away made her want to drag him to a dark corner.

“Rose!”  Her mother’s voice popped their happy bubble, and groaning, Rose led him off the dance floor to their table.  They were front and center by the stage, Jackie standing next to two unknown women.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Rose, you look stunning!” Jackie gushed, though Rose’s attention was instantly diverted when John made an odd choking noise.  “That’s a beautiful dress. Hello, John.”

He ignored her, causing Jackie to huff.  His focus was on their tablemates, staring with an absolutely gobsmacked expression.

The women were staring back, surprise and confusion on their faces.  They were very different, though they had matching expressions.  The one on the left was John’s age, a willowy redhead in pale yellow, while the one on the right was a brunette in her mid-twenties who was clearly less comfortable in fancy dress than the other based on how she kept shifting.

“Hi, John,” the redhead murmured, and he nodded stiffly, darting panicked looks in Rose’s direction.

“Liz.”

The brunette glanced between the two awkwardly.  “Hey, Professor.”

She got a half-smile from John.  “Hi, Ace.”

“Rose, this is Doctor Liz Shaw, she’s the Manager of Operations for Doctors Overseas, and Dorothy McShane, she manages the volunteers,” Jackie filled the awkward silence.  “This is my daughter Rose.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said politely, getting smiles from both women and wave from Dorothy before turning to John.  “Do you need a minute?”

His grip on her hand tightened, and even if she wanted to she couldn’t walk away.  “Um, no.  No. Sorry, I just… didn’t expect to see them here.”  He met Rose’s eye then, sighing as he said, “Liz and I were together when we were in med school.”

“Ah.”  Rose didn’t know what to say; the tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and she couldn’t honestly tell if he was just surprised or if more was happening she didn’t know.  “That’s nice.”

“He got back this afternoon from Haiti,” Dorothy volunteered.  “He’s been there since the hurricane struck.”

Liz laughed softly, shaking her head.  “That’s John in a crisis – first in, last out.”

“So you all know each other?”  As fishing expeditions went it wasn’t the most delicate, but for Jackie it was downright James Bond level inquiry.

“John and I were in the same year,” Liz explained, giving Rose a smile.  “We stayed friends for a while, but lost touch.”

“He saved my life,” Dorothy added.  “I was in India when that big tsunami hit, just a teenager on my own.  I got trapped on the top floor of a hotel for three days, and he was the first of the rescue team to reach my floor.  First face I saw after all that time thinking I was going to die. I’ve worked with Doctors Overseas ever since, as thanks and repayment.”

Everyone fell silent, and the two women stared at Rose and John expectantly.  “And you?” Dorothy finally asked bluntly.

“Ace!” John hissed before sighing.  “This is Rose.  My girlfriend.”

After a moment, a wide grin broke across Liz’s face.  “If half your mother’s stories are true, it sounds like you’re perfect for each other.”

John relaxed all at once as Dorothy nodded in agreement.  “Good on you, Professor!”

“No Michael?”  John let go of Rose’s hand only to wrap it around her waist, and she went willingly into his arms as the tension broke.

Liz laughed.  “At the bar, of course, with Liam.”

“You brought your brother?” John raised an eyebrow at Dorothy, who shrugged.

“Mia had to go to New York for work.”  Then she turned to Rose, a mischievous glint in her eye.  “So, tell us about you.”

* * *

 

Dinner was a blast, and despite John’s initial discomfort the three women hit it off like gangbusters.  Liz and Dorothy, or Ace as she insisted, kept the table in stitches as they regaled them with tales of John’s various misadventures, and he spent most of dinner with his head in his hands in embarrassment, though she caught all the smiles he tried to hide.  By the end he was contributing to the stories as well, more animated than he’d ever been in front of her parents.

Jackie and Pete were engaged as well, laughing and joking, and it made her happier than words could describe to see some of the people she loved most in the world getting along so well.  She knew they had concerns about John’s age, but they seemed to be getting past that, which made her happy.

Now more than ever Rose was sure John was her future, and she spent half the evening warring with herself over the immediate implications.

She didn’t think he’d noticed until they were back in the limo heading to her place.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Hmm?”  Rose blinked, turning her head from where she’d blindly been staring out the window at the passing London skyline.

John took her hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the back.  It didn’t escape her notice how often it passed over the base of a specific finger, and she briefly wondered if he was imagining a ring there like she was.  “You’ve been distracted all evening.  Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said truthfully, giving him a small smile, “I’m just… thinking.”

His lips tightened.  “Is this about Liz?  Or Ace?  Ace was always just a friend, more like a kid sister.  And Liz and I… that ended a long time ago, on good terms.  She’s been happily married for more than a decade, and I’ve never once wished I was Michael.”

“Really?  Not even for his ten percent stake in West Ham?”  Rose laughed at his guilty expression.  “It’s all right, really.  So you have a past.  As long as it  _is_  a past, and I don’t doubt you there, then all I’ll say is it was really nice getting to know other people who care about you.”

“If it’s not them, then what?”  John’s other hand came up to brush hair out of her eyes before cupping her cheek.  “Please.  You’re… making me nervous.”

They pulled up in front of her building then, and she darted forward to kiss him briefly.  “Upstairs.”

After tipping the driver and saying goodnight to Wilf as he fussed over them in their fancy dress, Rose led him into her flat and headed for her sofa, flopping down with a relieved groan.  “D’you mind getting some wine?”

Only a second later a cork popped free behind her, and she grinned to know they were on the same page with that at least.

“Red?”

“Please.”

By the time she had her shoes off and feet curled under her, he was settling next to her on the sofa and handing over a glass.  They silently toasted before taking a sip, Rose sinking deeper into the cushions.

“Quite the day,” she started slowly, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch and propping her head on her hand as she stared at him.

“Best I’ve had in a month,” he smiled.  “I’m with you.”  He slowly twirled the wine glass in his fingers before setting it down on the coffee table in front of them.  “What about you?”

“I’m with you,” she repeated simply.  “And, I do love you.”

His face lit up like the sun, a beaming smile that brought an echoing one to her own.  “I love you too.  I have for a long time.”

“Me too.”  Her eyes darted down to her wine glass.  “Um, about that-” He stayed silent, waiting her out, and she swallowed.  “Listen, John-”  She momentarily reconsidered.   _Would it be so bad?_   But then she thought about the promises she had made herself when they started this, and stiffened her spine.  “You may have had certain expectations after a… a moment like this, but… well, I mean- it’s just-”

Rose closed her eyes and groaned softly.

“You still want to wait for sex.”  He read her mind, tone carefully neutral.

“Yes.”  She peeked at him, and was relieved to not find an angry expression.  “Is that okay?”

“Oh, love.”  His eyes crinkled, smile widening, and he settled his hand on her knee.  “Of  _course_  it is.  We had an agreement, and I’m determined to see it through.  I don’t want you to have any doubts of my intentions.”

“I don’t.”

“And I don’t doubt yours.  But we made a promise.  We’ll wait until the weekend of the wedding, and not a second sooner.  Or longer.  It’s nine weeks now.  It’ll fly.”

Rose smiled, taking one last gulp of her wine before settling the glass down on the table.  “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.  I screwed up five years ago, and it was the worst mistake I ever made.  To even be sitting here with you now…  I’m the luckiest damn bastard in the world.”

They met in the middle, kissing softly.  When they eventually pulled apart to breathe, Rose let out a sigh.  “You still want to stay the night?”

“I’d stay every night,” he whispered.  “Here, mine… If I wake up next to you, it’s going to be a good day.  And falling asleep with you in my arms is better than anything.  A month without you proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt, not that I had any.”

“Okay.”

John pulled back enough to meet her eyes.  “What?”

“Okay.”  She blinked, realizing what exactly she was saying.  “Let’s move in together.”

A wide smile spread across his face before quickly falling.  “My lease isn’t up until December 31st.”

“So move in slowly,” Rose shrugged, before wrinkling her nose.  “Er, if that’s what you want.  Would you rather find somewhere different?”  She looked around, trying to imagine no longer living here.  It was her first home, the first place to be her very own, and she loved it.  Glancing back at him she knew she loved him more, and would move if that’s what he wanted.

“You own this place, right?”

“Yes.”

John shook his head.  “At least for now, this is perfect.  Anywhere with you would be perfect.  And if we ever need more room… we’ll reconsider then.”

It took a moment to process his meaning, and her voice took on a teasing tone.  “More room, huh?  Got a lot of stuff?”

“Mhmm, tons,” he deadpanned, tugging her onto his lap.  “Pictures, paperwork, albums.  Furniture.”

“All of which will go in my spare bedroom?”  Rose shifted, hiking her skirt up high enough to straddle him, making him smile as warm palms settled on her bare thighs.

“Or storage.  I was thinking sooner or later… maybe something living could take up space there?”

“Living?  Like a  _puppy_?!” she playfully gasped, kissing the tip of his nose.

John laughed.  “Sure.  Puppies, kittens, tiny homemade people, plants… whatever we want.”

“So, just to reconfirm,” she paused to kiss his mouth, “no sex until December, you move in between now and then, and somewhere down the road we pull a Frankenstein?”

“I  _am_  a medical doctor like he was, how hard could it be?  And I’m moving in  _before_  December?”

Rose leaned back to meet his eye, laughing.  “Babe.  Once this wedding happens, we are  _not_  leaving the bedroom.  Possibly for the rest of the year.  You really want to waste time we could be shagging on boring things like  _moving_?”

“Fair enough,” he grinned.  “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Let’s not just limit ourselves to the bedroom.”

“Doctor Noble, I like the way you think.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note - 'gentlemans club' is used here like the old-time boys club sort of place, like on The Crown. NOT an old strip club!
> 
> And thank you again to everyone for the reviews; I'm working my way through replies!

Rose sighed, hooking her leg higher on John’s thigh.  Their simple goodbye kiss had once again turned into a full-on snog against the front door. The closer Martha and Mickey’s wedding drew, the harder it was for them to keep their hands to themselves.  He was essentially moved in, though there were a few boxes still stacked in corners waiting to be unpacked.

“You’ve gotta go,” she mumbled, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck.  He was due at a restaurant for Mickey’s stag night in twenty minutes, and the bridal party would be knocking at her door any moment.

“I’m good.”  He sucked at her pulse point, making her hips jerk into the nice bulge he had going.  “Why don’t we go back to bed instead?”

“Sto- _op_ ,” she grumbled, pushing futilely at his shoulders, both pleased and annoyed that he knew she wasn’t very serious.  “One more week.”

After three continuous nights sleeping in the same bed they’d started cheating on the rules; by now the agreement had been revised to an ‘everything  _but_ ’ technicality, with all else being fair game.

Ignoring her he skimmed his fingertips up her leg and between her thighs, finding her knickers just as a knock came from the other side of the door.

“Shit,” Rose whined, and this time when she pushed him away he took a step back, letting her leg drop.  “Right, you need to go  _now_.”

“Fine,” John grumbled, pecking her lips one last time before physically moving her out of the way and opening the door.  “Good evening ladies, have a good time.”  He stepped out, letting Tish, Martha, and Shonara in to find Rose still leaning against the wall, breathing deeply.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Martha snickered.  “D’you want us to come back in an hour?”

Rose straightened up, fixing the skirt of her dress and shutting the door behind them.  “No, no, come on in.  It’s fine.”  Shaking her head to clear it, she showed them where to leave their coats before guiding them into the sitting room where everything was ready.  “Welcome to stage 1!”

The coffee table was covered in snacks, everything from mini quiche and pigs in blankets to pretzels and popcorn.  Four of Rose’s largest wine glasses stood ready, a bottle of red next to them with a bottle of white in an ice bucket.  “Sit, sit!  What do we want to start?”

“Red,” Tish said firmly.  “I don’t think we need all this food though; tonight is about drinking!”

Rose began pouring as the other women took plates and started sampling.  “I have it on good authority that if you eat first, you can drink  _more_.”

Martha nodded in agreement, accepting her wine with thanks.  “It’s true.  Getting some meat is a very important part of the drinking process.”

Over the previous six months Rose had gotten to know Martha as a charming, sweet, tough, brilliant,  _classy_  girl, which was why it took a moment for the double entendre to process.  Choking on her own glass of wine, she almost fell off the couch in surprise.

“Martha!”

The woman burst out laughing, tears filling her eyes as she watched Rose flounder.  “Sorry, sorry!  I couldn’t resist,” she cracked up.  “You walked right into that one.”

Tish and Shonara got it then, snickering into their own glasses.  “So does that mean you’re no longer sexually  _vegan_?” Tish teased, wagging her eyebrows.

Rose took a long sip of her wine to buy herself some time, unsure of how much to share.

“Your secrets are safe with us,” Martha promised, seemingly reading her mind.  “It’s a  _hen do_.  If we can’t talk about our sex lives tonight, when can we?”

“We can all share,” Shonara offered with a wink.  “For instance, Leo will just be having whiskey at dinner tonight; he’s already  _eaten_.”

After a moment the four women all howled with laughter, Tish high-fiving her sister-in-law.  “Very nice!”

“Your turn,” Martha prompted her sister, elbowing her.

Tish sighed dramatically.  “All right, all right.  I’m not ‘going steady’ with anyone at the moment, but… I’ve been having a lot of  _takeaway_.”

Rose wolf whistled as they clapped, Tish bowing.  “All right, I suppose I’ll go… um, okay-” she tried to think of the right analogy for what they’d been doing- “so, no longer ‘vegan’, I’ll admit that, but… we’re not ready to  _wrap the sausage_  just yet.”

“Get it, girl!” Shonara high-fived her as Rose blushed, the other two cheering.  “Right, bride, your turn.”

Martha bit her lip, tucking hair out of her face.  “Okay, um, cone of silence, right?”  The other three nodded vigorously, drinking their wine as they waited.  “So, keeping with the theme… starting with our wedding night, we will be… keeping the sausage unwrapped.”

The room was silent as they processed this.  Rose stared at the blushing bride, mind whirling.  “That’s awesome,” she finally choked.  “Oh my God, that’s  _wonderful_!”  Tish and Shonara broke out of their stupor then, squealing as all three tackled the now-laughing woman of the night.  They all squished onto the couch then, hugging and laughing.

“When was this decided?” Tish demanded, one arm wrapped around her sister’s neck.

“We had a scare right after we got engaged, and we were both surprised that we were disappointed when it wasn’t true.  Started talking, and… with where my career is, now’s actually a really good time, so we’re going to go for it.” Martha beamed.  “So, in some ways it  _is_  one of my last weeks of freedom.  Between now and the end of our honeymoon is my last chance to pig out on lunch meat and sushi and coffee and alcohol – once we’re back we’re  _both_  going on a clean eating kick, try to get as healthy as possible.  And Mickey’s so sweet, he’s already promised to give up everything I have to, suffer with me so to speak.”

“He’s going to be a wonderful dad,” Rose said sincerely, already picturing it.  “Feel free to borrow Tony any time to practice.”

“And Keisha,” Shonara cut in.  “Any time.  Really.  Please. I’m begging, actually.”

“Stop, you’ll scare her,” Rose scolded, whacking her arm.  “Shush!”

Martha leaned forward to see Rose, smirking.  “And, once baby Smith-Jones is here,  _you_  should feel free to borrow them at any time for ‘practice’.”

Rose scowled, instinctively shuddering.  “Um, no.  Babysit, yes, absolutely.  But don’t- don’t even put that into the universe yet.  Ugh.”

“Yeah, Martha, be nice,” Tish teased.  “You’re not the only one getting some serious  _meat_  after your wedding.”

“Tish!”

* * *

John walked up to the restaurant perfectly on time, meeting the other three at the door as they approached from the other side.

“Hey,” he greeted them, returning their fist-bumps and just managing not to roll his eyes.  He was easily twenty years older than all of them, and while that wasn’t an age difference he noticed with Rose, it was clear these three were still in the cocky/invincible stage of young adulthood, a stage he wasn’t sure he’d ever even gone through.

“Thanks for coming man,” Mickey grinned, seeming genuine enough.  Then he snickered.  “Sorry the girls broke up… whatever it was.”

This time John did roll his eyes, hiding it by opening the door.  “We don’t want to lose our reservation.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey smirked on his way past.  “Whatever you say.”

Following them in, John prayed for patience.

They were seated quickly, and he took a moment to appreciate the restaurant.  Mickey had wanted a nice steak and whiskey dinner followed by drinks at a bar, so they’d come to one of the better steakhouses in London.  It had an old-time feel to it, dark colors and lots of wood and leather.  It had been a gentleman’s club back in the day, but had been a restaurant now for more than thirty years.  The clientele was still mostly skewed towards men, especially for business meetings over a meal.

John’s father and grandfather had brought him when he graduated first uni and then medical school, and he had fond memories of the place.

The conversation was, thankfully, of higher quality than he’d initially feared.  A healthy debate on football teams took them through to the entrée, but John was the only one to notice when Mickey merely picked at the steak he’d been eagerly anticipating.

“Is it not right?  For as expensive as it is, you should send it back if it’s not,” he murmured, not wanting to draw the attention of Leo and Jake.

“No, it’s good.  Great,” Mickey replied lowly.  “I’m just… it’s starting to feel real, now.”

John looked down at his perfect steak with regret, before sliding back from his chair.  “Come with me.”

He led the younger man through the restaurant to the back patio.  It was deserted, being early December, but it wasn’t too cold and gave them some privacy.  “What’s going on?  Are you having doubts?”

Mickey stared at his shoes, hands shoved deep in his pockets.  “I’m from an Estate.  The only reason I escaped that life was the Tylers took me and Gran with them, supported me going to school.  Martha is… Martha is better.  She’s a  _doctor_ , she does real good.  She’s beautiful, smart, funny.  Kind.  She’s way out of my league.”

“Do you love her?” John asked, and Mickey’s smile at the thought said everything even before the words came out.

“More than anything.”

John nodded, crossing his arms and staring across the patio at the wall for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.  “What do you know about Rose and I? As a couple, I mean.”

Mickey’s head jerked up, brow furrowing before he shrugged.  “Not much. Martha knows more, I think, but she won’t tell me.  ‘Cone of silence’, sort of thing, or so she said.”

“We met five and a half years ago,” he started slowly.  “In a bar.  It was… she was perfect.  Everything I’d ever wanted in a partner, when I bothered to think of such a thing at all.”

“But?”

John snorted.  “But I’m twenty years older than her.  I’m her  _parents_  age.  I realized I was falling in love, that I could genuinely see myself with this girl, this  _woman_ , forever.”

“What did you do?”

“Panicked.  Ran like hell.  Disappeared from her life overnight.  I stood her up for a date, and didn’t see her again until that dinner we all had back at the start of summer.”  Glancing down at the ground, he scuffed the toe of his shoe on a crack in the cement.  “I knew she was too good for me, too young, that I was too old and damaged.  That she’d wake up one morning and see the truth, and be horrified.”

“How’d that work out for you?”  Mickey was staring at him intently, and he met his eye evenly.

“It was the worst mistake I ever made.  I will never stop being grateful to get another chance, and stop mourning the five years we lost.  I know it’s terrifying, but she chose  _you_ , Mickey.  And I’ve had to listen to her- Martha, I mean- talk about you for the last three years, and she knows you.  Warts and all.  She thinks you’re worth it.  At the end of the day, it’s her choice who she spends her life with, isn’t it?  Who the fuck are you to choose for her?  If you genuinely believe she’s that smart and wise, you need to trust her opinion. That’s the secret of women, Mickey, and you need to learn it sooner or later.  She will  _always_  be smarter than you, in the ways that really matter.  Just go with it.”

Mickey nodded slowly, a half-smile appearing briefly.  “That’s… that’s exactly what Pete said,” he admitted.  “The Tylers, they’re the only family I’ve got.  That never bothered me, until I saw how close Martha’s family is.  I’ve never had that, not really.”

John clapped his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, grinning.  “You’re looking at this all wrong, son.  You may never have had that before, but a week from today you’ll have it for the rest of your life.  So long as you don’t let your fears overcome you.”

A weight had seemingly lifted off Mickey’s shoulders, and John turned to back inside before realizing he wasn’t being followed.  “What?”

“Martha wants a baby,” he blurted.  “I mean, I do too, but… she wants it  _now_.  Soon.  Get pregnant immediately.”

“Okay.”  John crossed his arms, just watching the other man begin to pace.

“What if I’m no good?” Mickey finally blurted after a dozen turns around the small space.  “My dad left when I was a baby.  All I’ve ever had is Pete.  What if I screw the kid up?  I’m not ready!”

“Listen to me, son,” John started, stopping him with his hands on his shoulders.  “First, breathe.  Second – it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!”

“No, listen to me,” John insisted.  “What kids need, more than anything, is stability.  They need love and attention.  Right?  Being there, day in and day out, teaching them, playing with them, just spending time with them, that’s enough.  There’s always more, and some of it will come naturally, but that’s the biggest part.  That, and loving their mother.  I’ve seen you two together, for  _years_ , and I’ve heard even more stories.  As long as you stay a team, you put your relationship first, you will- do a great job.”  He almost said ‘kill it’, but given the topic it didn’t seem appropriate.  “All right?”

Mickey sighed, nodding slowly.  “Yeah.  Yeah, okay.”

“Now, two more things then we’ll go back in if you’re ready.  One – you will  _never_  be ready to be a parent.  I’m done my fair share of time in the obstetrics ward, and I’ve met men becoming fathers for the third and fourth time who were still scared shitless.  Just accept it.”

“Okay,” he said, though he didn’t look convinced.  “What’s two?”

“Talk to Martha.  Not today, or even tomorrow, but the sooner the better.  Do it before the wedding, so you go in on the same page.  What you decide doesn’t matter nearly as much as you deciding together.  Got it?”

“Got it.”

John waited until Mickey moved towards the door, following him inside.  When the other man turned towards the restrooms, John sought out their waiter, who happened to be standing nearby.  “Hi,” he started, waiting for the man to acknowledge him, “had a bit of nervous-groom syndrome; can we get out steaks reheated?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

* * *

When Mickey returned he was his usual cheery self, talking and joking as they finished their meals.  The bar offered whiskey sampler flights, and ever the teacher, John fell easily into lecture mode as he educated the younger men on the finer points.

Once the bill was settled they headed out onto the street, starting up the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind.  “Right, what’s next?” demanded the groom, throwing his arm around Jake’s neck and pulling him down to give him a noogie.

“Well,” the best man drawled, fighting him off with a laugh, “I was thinking… strip club?  Buy a shag?”

“No,” Mickey said firmly, stopping dead, “not a chance in hell.  I  _do_  actually want to get married.  I love Martha.  I don’t need to see other women in their knickers.”

Leo and John nodded in agreement, the younger man adding, “Shonara would  _kill_  me.”

“Rose would help.”

“All right, all right, was just a suggestion,” Jake protested, holding his hands up in peace.  “Don’t get your pants in a twist.  What’s your idea?”

Mickey shook his head, raising his arm and stepping to the curb.  “Taxi!”

* * *

As soon as they pulled up to the club John started laughing, shaking his head fondly as he climbed out of the cab.

“What?” Mickey asked, falling into step with him as Jake and Leo walked ahead, debating the cheapest way to get drunk.

“This is where Rose and I met,” he explained.  “I haven’t been back since.”

“D’you want to go somewhere else?”

John shook his head, holding the door for him.  They were there early enough the cover hadn’t started yet, and plenty of empty tables.  “Nah, no problem.  A year ago? Maybe.  Besides, tonight’s about you.”

They claimed a table for six, John buying the first round of tequila shots.  When they arrived they held the shot glasses up, and he gave a quick toast.

“To Mickey and Martha!”

The shots were thrown back, just as the DJ got started.  The three younger men immediately jumped up, heading to the dance floor.

“Coming?” Mickey shouted, but John shook his head.

“I’ll hold the table!”  It was a good enough excuse; it was hardly his type of music, and not his definition of dancing.  He wouldn’t mind if Rose was there, but had no interest in basically dry-humping a stranger.

Mickey gave him a thumbs up before disappearing onto the floor.  Leaning back in his seat John ordered a beer from the waitress, lingering over it as he watched the dancers writhe to the so-called music.

About an hour after they arrived all the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he glanced towards the door to see Rose, Martha, Tish, and Shonara come in, laughing.  An involuntary smile crossed his face at the sight, partially at Martha in her tiara and sash but mostly at Rose.

She must have sensed his gaze, because she scanned the club until their eyes met.  A beaming smile spread across her face, drawing an identical from his own, and started his way.  The other women pulled her back, talking, and he waited impatiently to see what she would do.

* * *

They stumbled into the club howling with laughter, linked together arm in arm.  Shonara’s portion of the evening had been laser tag, and it was a smashing success.  Rose had felt like a secret agent in a movie, dressed for clubbing in a tiny dress and sky-high heels, sneaking around shooting lasers at her friends.  Martha had won as was only right, but they’d given her a fight for the title.

Tish’s suggestion was, naturally, drinking and dancing, though everyone was fully on board.  Rose didn’t miss the irony of the selected venue being where she had originally met John, and no sooner had the thought crossed her mind that her skin prickled.  Peering around the dark room, she spotted him sitting at a table by himself.

Grinning, she started in his direction before someone grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Where are you going?” Tish shouted, and Rose leaned closer to be heard.

“The guys are here with a table.  Let’s join them.”

Shonara shook her head.  “No, no, no!  We’re  _supposed_  to be celebrating!  Dance with strangers, let them buy us drinks,” she protested.

Martha was eyeing the dance floor, face lighting.  “Do what you want;  _I’m_  going to go dance with my fiancé.”  And she disappeared into the crowd.

Rose looked at the two women before glancing over her shoulder at John.  “Yeah… sorry.”  Not sorry at all, she spun on her heel and sauntered towards where her boyfriend was sitting.  “Hi!”

“Hey, babe,” he said in her ear, pulling her onto his lap instead of letting her take the seat next to him.  “How’s your night going?”

“Great,” she enthused, playing with his tie, “better now.”  She shifted, angling herself better across his thighs, and drawing out of him a ragged moan she heard over the eardrum-shattering volume of the club.  “And what have you been up to?” Rose teased, refreshingly unworried about what had him aroused.

His arms were wrapped around her waist to support her, but he tightened them to bring her side closer into his chest.  “Thinking about the last time I was here.”

“Something good then?”

Before he could answer Tish appeared, smiling.  “Hi, lovebirds.  I can hold the table for a bit if you want to go dance.”

“Yes,” Rose decided, sliding off his lap and heading for the dance floor, dragging him by the hand.  “Thanks!”

She wormed her way through the crowd until they were in deep, none of their friends nearby.  Turning her back to John she pulled him against her, settling his hands on her hips as she began to dance.  It didn’t take long for his hips to fall into rhythm with hers as they grinded to the techno-pop. Rose lost herself in the beat, her senses overwhelmed by the crowd and the music but mostly the man behind her.

Despite her concerns he seemed to be enjoying himself, fingers rubbing circles in her skin through her dress as he pulled her tighter against him.  As much as she loved feeling him against her bum she eventually shifted, wrapping her arms around his neck as they moved.  He took advantage of the new position, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless when they finally parted.

John’s arms kept them pressed together, palms blatantly cupping her bum, but in the dark club she doubted anyone would care if they could even see.  Time seemed to flow strangely, both flying past and yet dragging.  She was ready to crawl out of her skin and into his by the time she glanced at the table, only to see everyone else gathered around it talking.

Tapping his arm she nodded in the table’s direction, and his face soured before nodding.  They maneuvered their way there, Rose biting her lip all the while to keep from smiling as he kept her carefully in front of him.

“Hey,” she greeted the rest of the party, noticing Leo held two coats.  “You leaving?”

“Yeah, got to relieve grandma,” Shonara said apologetically, giving her a hug.  “Tonight was a blast, though.”

“It really was!”

Rose eyed Martha and Mickey, who seemed lost in each other, and wasn’t surprised when Martha leaned in and whispered to him, only for her oldest friend to jump up like he’d been scalded.  “Right!  We should go, early morning with wedding… stuff, thanks for tonight, see you later!”

Mickey practically ran out of the club, Martha laughing as she paused to say goodbye.

“Have fun,” Rose snickered in her ear as they hugged, and the bride smiled widely.

“Oh, I  _will_.”

She disappeared in a whirlwind, leaving Rose, John, Jake, and Tish to stand around.

“We paid the bill,” Tish said, “so… if you want to go-”

John firmly pressed his hips against her bum, his vote clear, and Rose didn’t hesitate to accept the exit strategy.

“I think we will, thanks.  Tonight was a blast.”

He kept her close in front of him on the way out, and Rose managed to keep a lid on her laughter until they were settled in a cab.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, frowning, as his hand settled on her thigh and slipped just beneath the hem of her dress.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” she teased, kissing his cheek.  “I don’t think you were fooling anyone.”  Her palm settled high on his thigh, making him jump.

John shrugged, and in the darkness of the cab she heard the fabric rustle more than saw the movement.  “I don’t care, honestly.  Pretty sure a couple near us on the dance floor were, uh, doing a bit more  _dancing_  than dancing.”

“Oh, they were,” Rose drawled, deliberately crossing her legs so the hem of her dress rode up even higher.  “In case you were wondering, that’s too exhibitionist-y for me.”

“‘ _Too_  exhibitionist-y’?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.  “Implies you don’t mind a little.”

They pulled up at their flat then, and Rose opened the door before smiling at him over her shoulder.  “Oh, you’ll see.”

She walked into the lift just as he caught up to her, and they slid closed as her laugh turned to a moan.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta, stupidsatsuma!
> 
> Thank you dear readers for your lovely comments as well, as always. Home stretch now!

At first, John’s few functioning brain cells assumed the noise was his pulse beating in his ears.  He and Rose were tangled on the couch, her hand in his pants while his were occupied at her chest.  They were kissing frantically, sloppily, too focused on the pleasure they were bringing their partner to concentrate properly.

Then he heard his name.  Not just the sexy way Rose was whispering it, but his sister’s obnoxious loudmouth calling for him.

Reluctantly tearing his mouth away from hers, he propped himself up slightly and strained to listen.

“No, shh, John,” Rose pleaded, and the way she said it meant he wasn’t imagining things.

“Please tell me my sister’s not outside our door.”

She pulled him back to her by his half-undone tie, mouth latching onto his adam’s apple.  “She’ll go away.  Don’t stop.”

The choice was taken away from him by the door slamming open, and they both moaned in regret.  With no time to hide what they’d been up to, John just shifted higher to cover Rose’s bare chest as Donna stalked in.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be shitting me,” the redhead fumed as she came around the couch and found them lying together.  “I’ve been calling for an hour!”

“Go away,” John said firmly, knowing if she had gone to the effort of showing up something was seriously wrong but wanting to hold onto denial a few moments longer.  “We’re busy.”

“You have the rest of your lives to shag,” Donna was unsympathetically blunt.  “But I need Rose, _now_.”

“So do I,” he muttered before her words processed.  “Wait, what?”

Rose wriggled beneath him, achieving nothing more than torturing him.  “Donna, can you give us a minute?  Maybe wait in the kitchen?”

Standing above them with her arms crossed, lit by the moonlight coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows, Donna cut an imposing figure.  “I’ll be at the window.  Don’t you dare do anything but stand up and put yourself back together.”  She spun on her heel, walking the few yards to stare out at the city.

Glancing down at Rose, he held her eye for a moment before she pinched his side.  Sighing heavily he stood, offering Rose a hand up.  It didn’t take them long to make themselves presentable, though John winced as his zipper made a loud noise in the otherwise quiet room.

Once they were ready Rose turned on the light on the end table, bathing the room in a soft glow.  “Sorry, Donna.  What’s going on?”

Donna returned to them, and the two women sat gingerly.  Not quite ready to meet his sister’s eye and needing time to get himself under control, John busied himself in the kitchen preparing tea.  He couldn’t hear much of what was being said, but didn’t need to; he knew his sister, and it would have to be an absolute crisis at work to show up at Rose’s door unannounced at midnight.

Fetching Rose’s purse from where it had dropped by the door, he fished out her phone and plugged it into the charger on the counter.  Sure enough the screen showed more than a dozen missed texts and calls from Donna.  Fixing each a cuppa to taste, he brought them back to the sitting area just as Rose buried her head in her hands.

“Here, love.”  He would be lying to say he wasn’t irritated at the interruption, but made a conscious effort to clear his expression before she looked up.  Whatever was wrong wasn’t her fault, or at least not deliberately with the intention of ruining their night.  She had been plenty understanding the few times he’d been called away for a medical emergency, not least of which being his month-long trip to Haiti; now it was his turn.

A relationship, a _marriage_ , like the one they were building would only succeed with equality.  Support went both ways, and he would be damned before he gave her any reason to hesitate about his commitment.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, settling one palm on Rose’s back as she sank into his side, blowing gently on her tea.

“This morning Rose presented a new spread to our- her biggest client, and the meeting went well, they loved it,” Donna sighed, watching Rose with sympathy.  “But… the meeting was with the number two guy.  Apparently when he presented it to _his_ boss, at ten o’clock tonight no less, she flipped her shit.  We’ll lose the account if it’s not redone to new specs by eight Friday morning.  It took more than an hour to negotiate them down to that, if you can believe.  The owner wanted it Monday morning, but Harriet – the owner of _our_ firm convinced her that was unreasonable.  If they like what we come up with by Friday, they’ll pay for both sets of designs and stay clients; if Yvonne doesn’t, she won’t pay a penny and will pull her business.”

“And she’s an important client?” John gathered.

Rose moaned.  “Millions of pounds a year.  We’ve been working on this for _months_ , it was perfect.  Witch.”

“What can I do to help?”

His girlfriend straightened up with a pout.  “Not much, I’m afraid.  I’m going to have to work pretty much straight through to get this done in time, even with the extra help Harriet’s promised me.”

“Then you’ll do that,” he said brusquely, already formulating and discarding half a dozen plans.  “I’ll handle everything else.  Take a shower, wash your face.  I’ll have some war supplies ready for you by the time you’re done.  Go, go.”

Rose stood, taking the time to lean down and kiss him.  “We really will have to wait for after the wedding now,” she whispered, but he just shook his head, pressing his lips to hers.

“Don’t worry about that.  Do what you need to.”  As soon as she disappeared down the hall he went into crisis mode, heading for the kitchen and pulling out canvas bags, his sister trailing behind.

“So, sorry for interrupting what I walked in on,” Donna mentioned, leaning against the countertop.

“Me too,” was all he said, focusing on his plan.  Grabbing down every insulated travel mug they had, he started filling them with tea before refilling the kettle for more.  Opening the snack cabinet, he pulled out everything relatively healthy and started throwing it in a bag.  “Can you...”  Gesturing towards the whistling kettle he didn’t wait for a response, heading for the bedroom.

Locating her overnight bag in the back of her closet, he efficiently packed two changes of clothes and comfortable shoes.  A quick raid of her gym bag produced on-the-go toiletries, which got tossed in as well.  Returning to the kitchen with a detour to drop the bag by the door, he took over the tea-making, tightly closing the lid of the last travel mug by the time Rose reappeared in yoga pants and a tee, one it took him a moment to realize came from his own drawer unless she’d gone to Cambridge Med School without telling him.

“Right, I’ll head in and get started, Donna, go home and get some rest.  I’ll need you first thing,” she started, before stopping to stare at the now-cluttered counter.  “What’s all this?”

“Supplies,” John shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter.  Donna’s gaze was burning a hole in the side of his head, making him flush, but he refused to feel ashamed of showing how much he loved Rose.

She slowly shook her head, expression softening.  “I know you said… _thank you_ , John.”

“Anything for you.  There’s also a bag by the door.”

Padding up to him, she tugged him down for a firm kiss, momentarily sucking at his bottom lip before releasing him.  “I love you.”

“Love you too.  You’re taking a cab, yeah?”

Rose nodded.  “I’ll text you, but probably won’t be home before tomorrow night.  Er, tonight, I guess,” she corrected herself, seeing the time.  “Don’t forget to feed the cat.”

“I won’t.  Now, shoo.  The sooner you go the sooner you can come back.”

With one last kiss for her and a wave to his sister, the girls were gone in a whirlwind, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Tardis came barreling in then, jumping up onto the counter and nosing around some of the food he’d left out.  John sighed, pushing her away and starting to restore the room to normalcy.

“Guess it’s you and me now, girl.”

* * *

The next day was Saturday, and he puttered around the flat for part of the morning before deciding to unpack some of the boxes sitting around.  Most of them were books, cds, and knickknacks, and he took his time arranging them just so.  Rose had cleared some space for his things, and he killed some time reorganizing for fun.

He spent the afternoon polishing the finals for his various classes, drawing up study guides and planning the last week of lessons.  By teatime he was bored and lonely, unable to remember how he’d survived on his own for so many years.  The cat was somewhat of a comfort, having a living creature there to talk to instead of thin air.

Rose appeared around nine, taking a shower and scarfing down a salad before collapsing into bed.  Despite the early hour he went with her at her request, holding her close in the dark as she slept.  When he woke at dawn she was already gone, and he trudged through most of the day in a grumpy mood.

When five rolled around and he didn’t hear from her he texted her himself.

_How’s it going?_

She responded almost instantly.   _Ugh.  Ok, I guess, but UGH,_ with an angry person emoji attached for good measure.

_Dinner?_

_Probably takeaway in a few hours.  Too busy.  Sorry._  This time, the tiny face was pouting.

Tapping the phone against his thigh as he debated, he ran his idea past Tardis.  “What do you think, girl?”

He took the meowing for a yes.

* * *

“Ugh, that’s not going to work,” Rose groaned, throwing her pen on the table in front of her and closing her eyes in frustration.  The office was empty on a Sunday evening except for them, so they’d taken over the main conference room to make use of the large whiteboards.  She was incredibly grateful to the ragtag team Harriet had scrambled together for her, but so far all they had to show was a lot of terrible ideas and a few with potential.   _The_ idea was out there, just waiting to be had, but they were running on fumes at this point.  “Let’s… let’s take a break for a few minutes, order some dinner.  Yeah?”

There were five of them; Rose and Donna of course, and to her surprise Harriet as well.  Her boss and mentor had roped in one of the more junior girls, a lovely if too-perky woman named Mel, and an intern named Bill, who had lots of brilliant out-of-the-box ideas that would work for any other client, but not Yvonne.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Donna commented, staring behind her.  “Look.”

Rose looked over her shoulder, gasping when she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.  Jumping from her chair, she hurried to the door and threw it open to let John and two other men in.  She didn’t know who they were, but one carried pizza boxes and the other a bag of chips and pop, so she didn’t care.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked in delight, throwing her arms around John.  He hugged her back, the bags he carried thumping against her spine but she didn’t care, too happy to see him.

“I brought reinforcements and some temporary help, hope that’s all right.”

Mindful of the glass walls of the conference room she didn’t snog the daylights out of him like she wanted to, merely squeezed tighter.  “Thank you.”

Taking one of the bags from him they walked in together to find one of the two men already regaling the women with a lively story.

“Jack,” John said in a warning tone, and the man turned with a smile.  He was handsome, tall and broad shoulders, and if she didn’t have John he would’ve been just her type.

“What?  Trying to lighten the mood!”

“That’s what the food is for.”  The other man was dressed in a three-piece suit, and said it with such a resigned, fond air that said maybe Rose wasn’t Jack’s type after all.  “You all look like you need a break, come eat.”

“Thanks, Yan.”  Donna was first to the food, the other three exchanging bewildered looks as they followed her.

“Yes, thank you…” Harriet trailed off expectantly, raising an eyebrow at Rose as she put some salad on a paper plate.

“Oh!  Of course.  Um, Harriet, this is my boyfriend John, and… I honestly have no idea.”

Donna snorted.  “Pretty boy is Jack, he’s a friend of ours, and this is Ianto.  Hopefully here to be our barista?” she smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes up at Ianto and making him laugh.

“Certainly.”

Everyone filled a plate, relaxing at the conference table to eat and chat.  Settling down with John next to her, Rose grinned to see her team come alive again.  Using her left hand to eat, she laid her right on his thigh under the table, squeezing in thanks.  Glancing at her he grinned, taking her hand with his as they ate.

After an hour Jack cleared his throat, smiling as the laughter from his last story died down.  “Now, I believe we’ve taken up enough of your time and recharged your batteries.  We can go if you’d like to get back to work.”

Donna bolted upright, eyes going wide.  “Jack!”

“Donna!”

“I’m an idiot!” she gushed.  “You used to work for Yvonne Hartman, didn’t you?”

Jack and Ianto exchanged glances.  “We both did, why?”

Rose followed Donna’s train of thought.  “Oh, perfect!  We can’t confirm or deny if she’s a client of ours, but would you mind if we bounced some ideas off you that she might like?”

Jack’s eyebrow raised, but he nodded.  “Absolutely.  What’s going on?”

* * *

 

The week passed slowly, Rose spending the majority of her time at the office and coming home only to sleep.  John took the opportunity to greatly extend his office hours, and was pleased that most of his students stopped by at least once.

When he would finally pack up he’d call for takeaway, stopping by Rose’s office so she could take a break and they could eat together.  The team had been good for brainstorming, but Rose was handling most of the work to keep consistency.  He would fill their dinner hour with teaching anecdotes and stories from his travels, doing his best to keep Rose laughing and at ease.

Once she’d get back to work he would pull out his laptop, sometimes taking up her couch or working at Donna’s desk if she needed the room to herself.  He had plenty of his own work to keep busy with, and the hours would pass quickly until she was ready to call it a night.

When her alarm went off at five on Friday morning, he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her against him.

“Jo- _ohn_ , I’ve gotta go,” she whined, nonetheless happily rolling into his chest and burrowing down.

“In a minute,” he promised, “just need a morning cuddle.  And to talk to you.”

“Mhmm?”

“Can you come home after your presentation?”

Rose tensed in his arms for a minute, before sighing.  “Depends on what Yvonne decides.”

“You’ve had a long week, and you need a break,” he said firmly.  “The rehearsal’s tonight, the wedding tomorrow, and you should decompress first.  Even if it’s to come home and nap.”

“Is that your suggestion as a doctor?” she teased, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

“Yep.”  He patted her bum before releasing her.  “Think about it, I’ll be here all day unless a crisis comes up.”

Rose rolled out of bed, stretching her arms above her head before moving towards the shower.  “I’ll text you one way or another.”

Watching her bum sway as she moved, he wished the wedding would be over soon so he could finally follow her in.

_Two more days._

* * *

 

John looked up from the textbook he was reading, brow furrowed.  Music was coming from the hall, but before he could go see what it was, the song coalesced into _We Are the Champions_ , and he stood grinning as Rose burst into the flat.

“ _-keep on fighting, til the end!_ ”  Kicking off her heels and dropping her purse at the door, she sprinted towards him and leapt into his arms, laughing.

“I take it the presentation went well?” he rumbled, holding her tighter as she sprinkled kisses over his face.

“It went perfectly,” she gushed, wrapping her legs around his waist.  “She loved it!  She’s still a bitch for making us redo it all at the last minute, but honestly this was even better than the original and she’s going to keep us and I got a raise and I love you so much!”

John laughed, returning to the couch and settling down with her in his lap.  “That’s amazing, love.  Congratulations.”

“Mhmm.”  She kissed him leisurely.  “And I know I’ve already got next week off but Harriet’s going to give it to me without using my time, so I am _all. yours._ ”

“You weren’t already?”

“Oh, shut up.”  Rose was smiling too hard for him to take her seriously though.  “All we need to do is get through tonight and tomorrow, then we are off to Bermuda for a week.”

John hummed.  “Sand, sun…”

“Sex,” she corrected sternly.  “Play your cards right, and I’ll let you out of bed to eat.  Maybe.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They snogged, hands roaming and clutching long enough to be breathing hard when they finally pulled away.  “What do you say we head to the hotel early?”

John smiled and pointed at the bags waiting by the door.  “Say the word, my love.”

* * *

 

They were able to check in when they got there, and Rose threw herself onto the bed with a laugh, pleased when she bounced.  “We’ve got four hours before we’re supposed to meet, whatever shall we do?” she teased, giving him her best ‘come hither’ look.

John joined her on the bed, stretching out next to her with an amused smile.  “You were asleep in the taxi, love,” he said gently, putting his hand on her hip.  “I think a nap’s in order.”

She pouted, sticking out her lower lip.  “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He groaned, leaning forward to capture it between his own.  “Temptress.  A little longer won’t kill us.  Let’s get through the rehearsal dinner, yeah?  Then see what happens tonight.”

“Mhkay.”  Cradling the back of his head with her hand, she pulled him with her as she lay down.  “Kiss me to sleep?”

The last thing she remembered was his tongue in her mouth and hand on her bum.

* * *

 

They walked into the ballroom arm in arm, stopping just inside the doors as Rose gasped.  “This is _beautiful!_ ”  Nearly all the decorations were up except the flowers, which were due for delivery the following morning.

The wide aisle was marked with three sets of three-foot high pillars, waiting for vases of white roses.  Candles lined the space between the pillars; for safety reasons they were battery-operated candles, but Rose suspected the visual would be no less stunning because of that.  At the end of the aisle stood a dais with a frame, sheer white drapes drawn back and secured with ribbons.

They were still early despite being the last ones there, and her brother was the first to notice them.

“Rosie!” he shrieked from the front row, racing down the aisle to fling himself at her.  “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, silly, I’m in the wedding too,” she teased, swinging him up into her arms as they moved towards the rest of the group.  “You remember John.”

“Hi.”  Tony waved with a grin.

John smiled.  “How’s it going?”

“Good!  My Rosie’s here now.”  The boy nodded seriously, and Rose coughed to hide a laugh as John winked at her.

“I know exactly how you feel, mate.”

* * *

 

The rehearsal seemed to take forever, though Rose didn’t know if that was because of the wait for dinner or the expectation of what might happen with John when they were finally alone again.

They spent most of the practice sharing smiles, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.  Being the lowest ranking members of the wedding party worked in their favor; they walked first, stood at the end of their respective lines, and had zero responsibilities during the ceremony itself.  A few times Rose caught glares from her mother, but she ignored them in favor of making faces at John in a bid to get him to laugh.

When the rehearsal was finally over and it was time for the dinner, they held tightly to each other as they followed the group to the hotel’s restaurant.  They were in a private room, still a rather intimate group at fourteen around a single, long table.

Once they ordered came the toasts.  As the hosts of the dinner, Rose’s father stood and said a few kind words about Mickey, and by some miracle managed to keep her mother from speaking as well.

Mickey’s toast was funny and poignant, and Rose leaned into John’s side as she blotted away tears while they raised their glasses.

“All right?” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her closer.

She nodded, smiling up at him.  “I’m just so damn happy for him.  He deserves the world, and I think Martha’s the answer to that.”

“Agreed.”

The dinner went quickly, jokes and personal stories flying from every corner.  Rose spoke about when she and Mickey were children, while John shared stories from trips he and Martha had taken with Doctors Overseas, highlighting her bravery and calmness under pressure.

Due to the early morning the group split not long after dessert, though by mutual agreement John and Rose headed for the hotel bar instead.  Settling together at a table near the edge of the dance floor, they ordered wine.

“To the happy couple,” John toasted, holding up his glass.

“May they have a long and happy life together,” she added, clinking their glasses before sipping.  “I still find it a little hard to believe, Mickey getting _married_.  I think I half expected him to be a perennial bachelor.”

“That’s what Donna’s always said about me,” he snorted, leaning closer.  “Look at us.”

“Mhmm.”  Rose slid her chair a little closer, tangling her legs with his under the table.  “Not planning on permanent bachelor-hood, then?”

“I think I found an acceptable alternative.”  His palm was warm on her knee, thumb rubbing back and forth at the inner crease of the joint and making warmth pool low in her gut that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Is that so?” she murmured, and they met in the middle for a chaste kiss.  When they pulled apart a band was setting up on the small stage, a singer dressed in forties garb talking to the bartender.  “Looks like there’s about to be music.”

John merely took her hand, waiting until the singer introduced herself and the first strands of music began to play to say, “May I have this dance?”

“Of course.”  Rose let him pull her to her feet, stepping into his arms just as she recognized the song, smiling.  “ _At last,_ ” she sang softly in his ear as they swayed, “ _my love has come along_.”

“ _My lonely days are over,”_ he took it up, “ _and life is like a song._ ”

Rose let herself sink deeper in his arms until they were pressed tightly together, barely moving to the music.  The song felt like the sign she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for, but nothing had ever felt more right than this moment.

She loved this man with all her heart, trusted him without hesitation.  He’d long since proved himself to her, shown the true depth of character she’d seen hints of the first time they were together.  Her doubts were gone, having evaporated months ago, and any last stubborn spots were wiped clean by how he’d handled the previous week.  Never pressuring her in any way, never suggesting she do anything other than what she needed with the exception of getting more sleep, he took care of her, being there when she needed him and waiting patiently in the wings if she didn’t.

This was it; this was their moment.

 _At last_.

As the final strains of the song faded out, she went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.  “John?”

“Yes love?”

“Take me to bed.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! After this, all that remains is an epilogue. Thank you for joining me on this journey!

Rose drifted awake slowly, smiling before she even opened her eyes.  She was wrapped in John’s arms, pressed tightly against him, and hyper aware of everywhere their skin touched.  They were closer than she would’ve thought possible, completely encased in each other, and the feel of him naked against her reignited the smoldering fire in her veins.

Their night had been perfect: passion and spontaneity combined with sensual exploration, giving her a whole new definition of the phrase ‘making love’.  ‘Insatiable’ would barely scratch the surface, and just the memory of their encounters through the night made her half mad with need.

Snuggling closer into his chest Rose laid her lips against the first skin they found, pressing open-mouthed kisses just for the sheer joy of tasting him.  Taking a moment to sort out where her limbs were, she snuck one hand between them in search of him as she hooked her thigh over his hip.

John moaned lowly, not awake despite the evidence in her palm, and it occurred to her to see how much longer they had before her alarm.  She was due in Martha’s suite ridiculously early to get ready with the other women, and the light from behind the curtains suggested they didn’t have much time.  Continuing her ministrations, she peeked over her shoulder.

It took her a moment to process the time, before she gasped in horror.  Releasing him to roll onto her other side, she reached for the face-down mobile on the nightstand.  “No, no, _no_ ,” she chanted, flipping it over to find it dead.  “Shit!”  She’d been due at Martha’s almost half an hour ago, but her phone dying meant her alarm hadn’t gone off.  “Oh, _fuck_ me.”

Scrambling out of bed she jumped in the shower long enough to wash off the sweaty stench of sex, keeping her hair up out of the spray with a clip.  Giving herself a cursory once-over with a towel, she dug frantically through her bag for clean underwear and the cotton dress she’d packed, choosing it in the interest of time.  “Oh, this is so bad, I’m such an idiot, I cannot _believe_ I let this happen!” she berated herself aloud as she pulled her clothing on, sparing only a second to glance longingly at the still sleeping John.

Her charger sat innocently next to her dead mobile, and she scowled as she tossed them both in her bag.  “I should’ve known better than to trust you,” she grumbled to the mobile.  Grabbing her bag and doing one last spot check, she nearly sprinted for the door, not stopping in time to keep it from slamming.

“Shit!”

* * *

 

John woke to the sound of the shower turning on, sighing and stretching as he listened to the water, picturing Rose under the spray.  He’d been in the middle of a fantastic dream in which her tight fist was wrapped around him, finally, _finally_ as a precursor to more mutually pleasurable activities rather than the main event it had been as they waited for this weekend.

His brain came to life then and he smiled widely to recall that their wait was over, restraint a thing of the past.  He was fairly certain he’d surpassed his personal best, and was considering joining her when the water shut off abruptly.

Deciding to play coy and see how far she’d go to wake him up, he rolled back onto his side and measured out his breathing, feigning sleep as he listened for her footsteps.  The bathroom door opened, and he couldn’t help the upturn of his lips.  He was hopelessly devoted to this woman, more in love than he’d ever been, and knew the game would be up as soon as she touched him.

Then she started muttering to herself.  “Oh, this is so bad.”  A zipper slid open, and after a moment he grimaced in silent apology.  So that sound _had_ been ripping lace.  Oops.  “I’m such an idiot,” she continued, rifling through her bag.  “I cannot _believe_ I let this happen.”  It sounded as though she was pulling on clothes, and his brow furrowed before his stomach sank.

The wine had flowed freely the night before.  He’d thought they’d been on the same page, she’d been an enthusiastic (and willing, every time he checked, and he _did_ , he asked over and over, hadn’t she even made fun of him for it?) participant, but what if she’d had more than he thought?  What if she regretted it now in the light of day?  They’d technically lasted until the wedding weekend, but it had been her idea in the beginning…

Taking the coward’s way out he closed his eyes tighter as she came around the bed, picking something up off the nightstand.

“I should’ve known better than to trust you.”

His heart turned to stone and sank, devastation bringing a rising tide of nausea that he held back until the door slammed.  Once it did he leapt from the bed, baring making it to the toilet.

_I knew I’d fuck it up, but not like this.  I’m so sorry, my love._

-

Rose was just raising her hand to knock at the bridal suite when the door opened, and she found herself blinking at Tish.  “Hi?”

“Hi!”  The chief bridesmaid sagged with relief, tugging her inside.  “Oh my God, we were so worried about you!  Where have you been?  Are you okay?”

The suite was a flurry of activity, Martha in the middle of having her makeup done while a hairdresser worked on Shonara.

“Is that Rose?”  Martha blinked her eyes opened to take her in, smiling after a moment.  “Oh!  What happened?  We were so worried!”  Waving away the makeup artist she eased herself out of the chair, throwing her arms around Rose.

Blinking in surprise and touched by the concern, it just made her feel even guiltier as she hugged back.  “Oh Martha, I’m terribly sorry.  I had an alarm set on my mobile, but the bloody thing died because I forgot to plug it in.  I hope I haven’t held anything up!”

“Don’t worry about that,” the bride waved her hand dismissively as they pulled apart.  “We were just worried about you!  Tish was on her way to look for you.  I’m glad you’re all right.”

Relief brought a shy smile back to Rose’s face as she considered the previous night.  “Better than, but thank you.”

It seemed as though everything in the room stopped, Martha peering at her face for a long moment before breaking into a beaming grin.  “Oh!  Yay!  In that case, you are entirely forgiven even though you already were.  Good for you!”

“What’s going on?” Shonara asked from her chair.

“Rose got shagged silly!”

“Martha!” she protested, unable to help her laughter when not only did the three Jones women cheer, but so did the hair and makeup artists.  “Stop!”  Blushing furiously as a glass of champagne was pressed into her hand, she didn’t hesitate to down it in one go.

“No, not a chance,” Martha argued.  “Tell us _everything_.  Did he rock your world?”

Tish snorted, steering her sister back to her makeup chair.  “Of course he did, d’you see her smile?  Girl’s got more than a little pep in her step.”

As one of the attendants led Rose to a chair, she let her happiness take over her.  She and John were finally free of their self-imposed chains, she had three wonderful new friends to giggle with, her best and oldest friend was getting married to an amazing woman, and in twenty-four hours she would be on a beach in a bikini.

Life couldn’t get better.

* * *

John paced nervously, running his hand over his head.  The ushers were ready in their tuxes, professionally shaved and perfectly presentable, and now all they had to do was wait.  While the three younger men shot the breeze and Pete entertained Tony, John kept to himself by the window as he worried over Rose.  He’d texted her a dozen times, starting as casual as he could manage before growing increasingly worried, anxiety and fear clawing at his throat.

He prayed desperately that it was a misunderstanding, that what they had could be salvaged.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but feared he’d already used all of his luck and second chances.  If she thought-

“John?”

He wasn’t proud to say he jumped, spinning on his heel to face his- to face Pete.  “Yes?”

“Everything all right?”  Pete’s caring eyes were so like his daugter’s that John’s throat closed.

“Yeah.”

“Sure?  You look more like a nervous groom than an usher.”

Warring with himself, after a moment he shrugged.   _Nothing ventured, nothing gained._  “I’m just thinking about Rose,” he said truthfully.

Pete smiled knowingly.  “There’s no rush.  So long as the wedding comes _before_ a baby, take all the time you need.  I know it’s daunting; I’ve been married twenty-five years and I’m still terrified I’m going to lose her.”

John blanched; half expecting to be carted away in handcuffs, he didn’t think marriage was remotely on the table.  “Could you… would you mind checking on her though?”

“I have a better idea.”

* * *

 

The knock on the door interrupted Rose’s story about five-year-old Mickey, a wedding suit, and mud.  To her amusement it was another five-year-old, this time thankfully _not_ covered in dirt.  Yet.

The women swarmed Tony, fawning over him, and he lapped up the praise with happy giggles.

“What’re you doing here little man?” Rose asked when it was her turn for a hug, giving his cheek a loud smacking kiss for good measure.

“This is for you,” he said seriously, handing her a note.

Opening it she found a simple message in John’s handwriting.

> _My love for you is boundless.  You are my heart.  Your pain is mine, as is your joy.  I need you as the Earth depends upon the Sun, and for the same reasons._

Rose cooed, blinking back tears as she read his message two, three, four times.  It was the sweetest, kindest, most romantic thing anyone had ever written her.

“What does it say?” Martha demanded, and Rose tucked the note into her bra.

“Never you mind,” she scolded with a teasing smile.  “I don’t want you changing your mind about the groom at the last minute.  John is all mine.”  Going over to the desk in the corner, Rose hesitated only a moment before writing a message back.

> _Everything I am is yours forever._

Not quite as poetic as his note, but heartfelt nonetheless.  “Tony, c’mere.”  Folding the paper into a square small enough for him to carry, she carefully knelt to be on eye level.  “Give this to John, will you?”

The boy nodded seriously, reaching for it, but she pulled it back at the last second.

“Hang on.”  Puckering up, she pressed her lips to the paper and was pleased to see a faint outline remain in lipstick.  “Perfect.  Thanks, bud.”

“See you later!”  Tony took off at a run.

They returned to getting ready, and though she didn’t pull the note out again, she occasionally pressed her hand to her heart as she thought about it.

She loved this man.

* * *

 

John fidgeted in place, trying to stop himself and failing miserably.  He’d never heard from Rose, and had no idea what was about to happen.  The ceremony was due to start any moment, and he worried.  What if she didn’t show?  What if she caused a scene?  They were supposed to walk out together after it was over – would she take his arm?

The music started, and his spine stiffened.  The groom and ushers stood with their backs to the audience, and he could only listen as the bride started down the aisle.  At their cue the ushers and bridesmaids sat, and being on their farthest ends of their respective sides of the aisle, he couldn’t see Rose.

The ceremony passed in a blur, anxiety churning in his gut so terribly he could barely concentrate.  Following Leo’s lead he clapped in the appropriate places, going through the motions until the couple was pronounced husband and wife, their kiss bringing cheers from their families and friends.

Meeting Rose at the head of the aisle for the first time since she’d stormed out of their room, he searched her face only to find a bright smile and teary eyes.  Acting as if nothing was wrong, she linked her elbow with his as they walked up the aisle.

Once in the hallway and out of view of the guests he expected her to pull away, and was surprised when she leaned closer.  “Wasn’t that beautiful?” she sighed, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.  “What did you think?”

“It was nice.”  He blinked down at her, unable to reconcile the bubbly blonde in front of him with her angry words that morning.

“Something wrong?”

“I- you- Rose,” he tried, only to be interrupted by Mickey.

“Martha says it’s time for pictures – let’s go!”

Rose followed immediately, tugging him along.  “Come on!”

* * *

 

With no opportunity to speak to her privately during the photo shoot, John just watched Rose.  Something wasn’t adding up, and for the first time, he wondered if he’d misunderstood her words.  But if she hadn’t been talking to him, talking about their passionate night, what had she meant?

Walking back to the ballroom, which had been converted to the reception hall while the pictures were taken, he purposely slowed so as to put some distance between them and the rest of the wedding party.  “Are we all right?” he murmured, staring at the top of her head as he tensed in anticipation of her answer.

“Of course, love.  I mean- I think so?  Did something happen?”  Caring eyes peered up at him, twisting his heart.

“I heard you, this morning,” he confessed.

Rose blinked, clearly not expecting that.  “Heard me?”

Stopping dead, he glanced around before tugging her towards the wall.  He hadn’t meant to have this conversation here, but better now than after they walked into the hall.  “You…” he licked his lips nervously.  “You called yourself an idiot, and said- well, you said ‘I never should’ve trusted you’.”

To his horror and confusion, Rose burst into such a fit of laughter she folded in on herself, clutching at his suit jacket to help keep her upright.

“Rose?”

She straightened all at once, fighting for a serious expression.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… oh, love, you thought I meant you?  Us?”

John swallowed harshly, watching her.  “You were standing next to the bed.  I… I was pretending to be asleep.  Sorry.”

She went on tiptoe, kissing his mouth firmly.  “Oh, John,” she said with utmost fondness.  “Sweetheart, _no_.  I was talking to my mobile.  I set an alarm for this morning on it, but when we went to bed last night I was obviously distracted and didn’t charge it.  It was dead when I woke up, and I was already half an hour later to meet the rest of the party.  That’s all.  Not you, _never_ you.”

Unable to quite believe it, he nearly sagged with relief as her words sank in.  “You meant the mobile.”

“I knew I should’ve set the alarm on the clock in the room, but I put my faith in technology,” Rose nodded.  “I thought you were asleep.  Oh, darling, have you been worrying about this all day?  Is that what your lovely note was about?”

He nodded, a lump in his throat.  “I texted you, I sent the note, and heard nothing.  I thought- I thought-”  To his horror, tears pricked in his eyes.  “I thought I was about to lose you.  Again.”

The dam broke and he did fall to his knees then, sobbing.  Rose cradled him against her, letting him bury his head in her stomach as he shook.  She rubbed his head and back, whispering to him, as he let his grief and worry out.  He cried for the twenty-year-old Rose who’d waited hours at the restaurant for him, never knowing he sat in his car across the street, paralyzed with fears.  He cried for the man too jaded and untrusting to believe she could genuinely care about him.  He cried for the five years he’d wasted, regret coloring every aspect of his life until she burst into it again, her bright sunshine pushing away the storm clouds.  He cried for the future suddenly possible again, the one he’d resigned himself to never having.

Eventually the tears stopped, and he realized she was crouched down with him.  She was whispering her love, making soothing sounds and holding him tightly.  When he leaned back she offered a tissue with a wry smile.  “It’s clean.  I figured it’s a wedding, there’ll be plenty of tears.  This wasn’t what I had in mind though.”

“Did I ruin your dress?” was all he said, dabbing at his eyes.

“It’s fine.”  Rose didn’t even check, slowly rising with him as he stood.  Then she smirked, letting her tongue poke out the side of her mouth.  “If it’ll make you feel better, you can ruin it in a more fun way.”  She deliberately licked her lips, and he darted his eyes away, unable to even allow himself to consider the offer.

“I’m sorry.”

Rose’s smile fell as she grew serious, wrapping her arms around his waist.  “ _I’m_ sorry.  I had no idea you could even hear me, much less that you would misunderstand my meaning.  I love you, and I am very happy about what happened last night.  I have zero regrets, except for not being able to wake you the way I wanted to this morning.”

“I overreacted,” he admitted, tentatively settling his hands on her hips.  “I should’ve known better, but… I think in the back of my mind I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“There is no other shoe,” she said firmly.  “This _was_ the other shoe.  The first was five and a half years ago.”

He stared into her eyes, seeing the truth there, and his heart finally unclenched.  “I love you.”

A beautiful beaming smile spread over Rose’s face, the same one as every time he said those words.  “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”

“I love you.  I love you.  I love you.”  He peppered kisses over her face, finishing on her mouth and sucking at her lower lip for a moment.  “We should get into the party.”

“Okay,” she whispered against his mouth, stealing one more kiss.  “Let’s go.  I’ve got plenty of goodies packed that will hopefully make you forget all about this by the time our trip’s over.  But first, come dance with me.”

They walked in arm in arm to find the dance floor already packed, the song mid-transition to an upbeat number that consisted of piano and clapping.  Two notes in Rose gasped, turning to him with a laugh.  “Oh, we have _got_ to dance to this.  Come on!”

He followed willingly, wrapping his arms around her waist as hers went around his neck.  The trumpets started and he smiled, recognizing the Natalie Cole song as well.

Rose met his eye, holding it as she began to sing along.

“ _This will be, an everlasting love.  This will be, the one I’ve waited for.  This will be, the first time anyone has loved me._ ”

He kissed her, and the world stopped.


	16. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue.
> 
> John and Rose's Bermuda trip takes a surprising turn.

It was their second morning in Bermuda before Rose even considered opening her suitcase.  The afternoon they arrived John had her out of her sundress almost before the door shut behind them, and the most she donned after that was a robe whenever they had room service delivered.

The second morning, however, she woke to a view of the ocean, breathtaking in its beauty.  Carnal desires somewhat sated for the moment, she decided they should have breakfast in the hotel restaurant, if only to give the housekeeping staff a chance to clean the room and change the towels.

“What’re you doing?” John asked groggily, and she glanced back at him as she lifted her suitcase onto her half of the bed.  He was deliciously rumpled, the temptation to climb back into his arms almost unbearable, but she held fast.

“I want to go explore today.”  Unzipping the suitcase, she frowned at the unfamiliar garment bag folded neatly on top of what she had packed.  “Did you…” she trailed off, and he crawled down the bed to peer into the luggage.

“Oh.  I think that was Donna- she stopped by Thursday night, said she had a few things for you to pack.  What is it?”

“Dunno.”  She pulled the bag out, and when it unfolded a crisp envelope with her name printed in Donna’s neat handwriting fluttered to the floor.  “Hang on.”  Putting the note aside for the moment, she unzipped the garment bag to reveal a white halter neck sundress.  Thin cotton with a heavy lace overlay, it was simple and beautiful.  Rose slipped it on over her head, turning to the floor-length mirror in the corner to admire it. “Ooh, this is nice.”

John hummed in agreement, watching her with heavy eyes as she twisted and turned in the mirror.

After smoothing it down her hips one last time, mostly to torture him, she reached for the note again.  Reading it to herself first, she was glad she did at seeing the message.

> _Rose,_
> 
> _Grandad and I consider ourselves to be the best judges of your and John’s effect on each other, having known both of you before and after you found each other again._
> 
> _The happiness and light you bring to each other is a beauty unsurpassed, one very rare and precious.  It should be treasured always.  We may have gone out on a limb with the contents of the other envelope, and please do not feel pressured to make use of it.  We love you, and we love your love.  Do what is best for you, and when the moment feels right._
> 
> _If that happens to be on your lovely trip, well, consider yourself lucky to have such an amazing assistant-slash-sister.  (If so, we better be your first call!)_
> 
> _All our love,_
> 
> _Donna and Granddad_

Rose bit her lip, blinking back tears.  The sundress was starting to make sense, and with a shaking hand, she reached for the other envelope.  This one was manila, legal-sized, and she was unsurprised yet unprepared to see a  _Notice of Intended Marriage_.  The form was filled out already with their details, the only blank being the  _Place of Intended Marriage_.  A receipt was stapled to the front, with directions on how to pick up a marriage license from the Registrar.

“Well?  What is it?” John asked, coming up on his knees.

She smiled tremulously at him, so touched by Donna and Wilf’s sentiments she barely even noticed the sheet fall from his hips, leaving him bare.

“This might sound crazy, but hear me out.”

* * *

 

John fidgeted nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets to try to contain their shaking.  It had certainly been an interesting day, full of unexpected adventures and discoveries.  Their hotel was right off the beach, and a short hike down had them settled on a blanket, their feet buried in the famous pink sand.

They’d debated for hours, going back and forth over verbal pro and con lists, when John finally took her hand.

“I love you,” he had said seriously, staring into her eyes, “and I want to spend my life with you.  That starts today, regardless of whether or not we sign a piece of paper.”

The conversation had changed then, and after lunch they’d found themselves in a taxi to Hamilton, making arrangements that fell into place easier than anything had yet.  A jewelry store on a busy corner by the ferry dock caught Rose’s eye, and they’d quickly found a ring with pink sand inside it that she fell in love with instantly.

When John had opened his own suitcase he’d found an envelope as well, this time in his grandfather’s hand.

> _John,_
> 
> _This was your grandmother’s.  We agreed to keep it for you to give to the woman who makes your heart sing the way hers made mine._
> 
> _Only you can say if Rose is that woman.  If so, then it’s hers when you’re ready._
> 
> _Granddad_

Now the sun was beginning to sink, and he stood alone next to a justice of the peace.  Music began to play softly, and his head snapped round from where he watched the sunset to find Rose walking towards him, beaming.  She clutched a small bouquet, her hair unbound and feet bare as she made her way through the sand.

The tide was starting to come in, lapping gently at their ankles as he took her hand in front of the justice, and he thought the official might have even made a passing comment on it, some sort of parallel.  He was too busy staring at his bride, taking her in in wonder.

Never in his life had he felt so happy, so sure about something.  The same certainty was reflected on Rose’s face, the sunset paling in comparison to her beauty.

The most wonderful person he’d ever met wanted to spend her life with him, wanted to give him all she was, and for the first time he matched the feeling.  Rose made him want to be better, to  _do_  better, and if she held one hand, he could move mountains with the other.

Rings and kisses were exchanged, the photographer they’d hired snapping shot after shot, but all he cared about was her.

He’d gotten a second chance at forever with her, and it was glorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for joining me on this journey! I'm so happy to have shared this with you, and am incredibly grateful for all of the love you've shown this fic!
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!


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